An explained hiatus

I have decided to take a hiatus from this space.  A year ago, I remember planning and sculpting the things I wrote here in my head throughout the day and even as I was falling asleep at night.  More recently, I have been feeling uninspired and repetitive in my writing.  I thought my joy and motivation to write might return but it's been a month or two and it seems to be getting worse. 

I hope you all have a happy Christmas!

Another successful recital

Although I will probably also post when the video is available, I thought you might like to have a listen to Jbird's recent recital.  If I were a critic, I would announce that it was a stunning success.  However, as his wife this might be the biased response.  I know that he played beautifully, everyone thought so, not just me.  You can hear the recording if you click over to his blog here.

A quiet week

Town has halved in population as most of the students have gone home for their Christmas vacation.  It's nice to zoom through campus on our bikes without fear of toppling someone over.  It's also nice to have Soph and Jbird as relaxed and free as me.  The Christmas rush I've always experienced in New Zealand doesn't really happen when there are only three of you.  Instead, we get to be as self-indulgent as we like.  We have a few small events planned to keep us occupied, all nice things like wrapping presents or baking or lazing around and shooting the breeze.  We've grown accustomed to being far from home, friends, and family for Christmas and barely miss it not being summer. 

A great loaf

I came across this video which shows an amazing technique for kneading bread dough and I realised I needed some more lessons and lots of practice.  So I got the book Tartine out of the library which focusses on country breads (i.e.: sourdough or bread the way it used to be made).  My first comment to Jbird on opening it was This book has too many words and not enough recipes but I soon realised that I was wrong.  The words were spent on teaching a person like me the reasons behind what can be done with/too bread.  It's teaching me about considering ingredients in ratios and weight, kneading and resting and kneading and resting, cooking vessels, moisture, and temperature.  The authors of Tartine actually ferment their starter on the bench at room temperature but it requires feeding several times a day if one is to do this.  I am not dedicated enough for such a big commitment and shall continue to keep mine in the fridge.  I'm also afraid my flour bill will go through the roof.

It was exciting to pull a large loaf out of the oven today knowing I still have a ways to go and that it still isn't the perfect loaf, but feeling a little bit closer to my goal.  Jbird thought it had a great crumb and crunch. 

Chewy caramels

I had this sudden desire to try making caramel candies.  I don't know why.  I shouldn't be adding more lollies to my diet, but the idea of the texture and pouring gooey caramel had me transfixed.  It turns out it's really easy - if you have a good recipe and are committed to staying by the stove top while the caramel cooks.  Unfortunately my first recipe called for an entire teaspoon of salt.  At first I thought we could eat it anyway but Jbird soon convinced me they were too salty.  We threw that batch out.  Jbird also thinks caramels are strange alone, suggesting they need to be paired with chocolate or something else, but I was really craving a plain chewy caramel.  Similar to macintosh toffees at home.

Here's a good recipe I've adapted from a few different recipes:

1 cup cream

2/3 cup white sugar 

2/3 cup packed light brown sugar (I used dark brown and it was still very yummy)

1/4 teaspoon salt (or less)

1 teaspoon vanilla

Combine all these ingredients in a heavy bottom pot and stir constantly over a medium heat until the mixture comes to a boil.  Wipe down sides of pot with a heat proof wet spatula. Leave to boil until it comes to 245 degrees Fahrenheit (118 degrees Celsius).  Move off the heat and stir in the vanilla.  Pour into a small dish, mine was about 8cm by 18cm (3inches by 7 inches).  Leave to cool over night.  Cut and wrap individually in grease proof paper.  

I can't eat all that caramel and put small handfuls into cookie bags to add to presents I'm compiling for Christmas.  I hope I'm not the only one that likes caramel and I hope they don't melt.

I've been swimming up a storm

While Mum-the-midwife was here, we were talking about how once they're pregnant, feeling heavier and more tired, women are often inclined to becoming a couch potato.  We came to the conclusion that this is not helpful for the baby or yourself.  Being fit helps when giving birth - compare it to running a marathon - and has lots of positive benefits while you're actually pregnant.  When Jbird heard me mention that I'd love to be able to swim again now that I'm pregnant (and I have more time on my hands), he suggested we do everything we can to find a pool for me to use.  So we did.  And I am.  I went three times last week and twice the week before.  It's a lovely thing to do in my more empty days.  The only thing that had me hesitate is the current season - I didn't fancy biking around with wet hair when it's super cold out. So far that hasn't been a problem.  My hat is warm enough to keep out the tiniest bit of a breeze and we've been having some very mild weather again.  The one day it was really cold, it was also raining, so I just flagged my swim that day and went the next.  It turns out I enjoy the bike ride there and back too - it's only 15 minutes away and gets me warmed up for the pool.  

Have you been lap swimming much? I get really obsessed with counting my laps.  The only way I can do it is by swimming one style a certain distance.  At the moment I rotate between breast stroke, freestyle, and back stroke; swimming four laps each.  This short distance keeps me motivated to keep going because I find I move through them quite quickly.  I was very confused about how far I was swimming until I finally looked up the length of the pool.  I had thought it must be a 15 metre pool which meant that my 40 or so laps were only 600 metres.   I figured I must be slow because of all that extra weight at my belly (and on my thighs and...well, you get the idea).  Turns out it's 25 yards (around 23 metres) and my 44 laps were a kilometre! This is a much nicer figure to brandy around.  I could actually tell people I swam a K today instead of just I went swimming.  Of course, most people probably aren't quite sure what a 'K' is because this place works in miles but that's okay.  Hopefully it sounds even more impressive to them. 

A really good sandwich

There have been many nights of late when I haven't had a clue what to cook for dinner, or even what I felt like eating.  Unfortunately tea and toast doesn't quite cover all the food groups and while it has been my staple in-between meal recently, I can't substitute that for dinner.  Luckily we were taken out unexpectedly for dinner last night so I was able to use the idea I'd had last night for dinner tonight.  One less night to have to have a brilliant idea.

My very favourite thing of all is a really good sandwich.  New Zealanders might even consider these burgers, as these are on burger buns (I broke my sourdough only rule).  However, I've become more accustomed to labelling anything between bread as a sandwich unless it has ground beef (known as 'hamburger' here) which then becomes a burger.  It was a goodie too.  So good we didn't add any sauce at all and were glad to be able to taste so many different flavours.  It had fried aubergine, egg, and bacon with fresh avocado, tomato, that beet root salad I wrote about the other day, and cheese.  Delish.

A continuation of the sourdough journey

I haven't eaten store bought bread since I last wrote about making sourdough as our staple bread.  Because of my desire to practice and try different recipes, I only make one small loaf at a time, about twice a week.  Unfortunately most recipes call for much larger quantities.  It may seem easy to halve a recipe, but they also call for varying techniques which I don't always notice in time, so I'm often ad libbing what needs doing (with mixed success).  For example, some recipes suggest making a sponge with the starting and leaving it to grow over night, incorporating most of the flour in the morning.  Others suggest combining all of the ingredients to rise overnight.  Or proof as they call it here.  Many call for extra yeast alongside the starter but I'm trying to go without adding any more yeast so I tend to ignore that.  Mostly it works out fine.  I haven't yet been very successful with my whole wheat breads.  They come out a little bit like vogel* and are very delicious toasted, but I would like to see them rise to be as lovely and soft on the inside and crunchy on the outside as my white breads.  

There are a few things I forget which I need to try and remember which may help my journey. Salt is at the top of that list.  I don't know how but I often forget to add this to the ingredients, leaving the bread somewhat flavourless.  I also forget to slash the dough before putting it into the oven.  I think it rises better when slashed, and is not likely to gain an empty air bubble which I have seen on occasion.  I forget to spritz the dough with water before (and at least once during) baking.  This adds to the crunchy texture and great crumb.  It's a must.  I am a bit absent minded these days and sometimes forget to follow through with whichever step of rising I'm up to. I left bread rising in the oven over night last night which I had meant to bake yesterday evening.  This only left time for a 40 minute second rise this morning, instead of an hour or two.

My most successful bread so far was a white sweet and buttery brioche.  Light and delicious, I can't get enough of it.

*vogel = a popular take on German bread made in NZ.  Full of holes, and delicious textures.  The butter drips through when toasted.  Missed my many an expatriate Kiwi.  I brought 6 loaves home with me from New Zealand last year thanks to my in-laws.

The common beet root

After doing some research, Mum and I found out that beet root* (as well as their leaves) are an incredibly nutritious vegetable.  They have a high percentage of folate and manganese, as well as fiber, vitamin C, tryptophan, magnesium, and other trace minerals like iron, copper and phosphorus.   You can read all about what that means for our bodies here.

I had generally avoided this vegetable growing up because it seemed so slippery and likely to stain.  At home we often use the canned version which leaves it's texture bland at best.  I wrote it off as Grandma food.  However, it's such a commonly used vegetable at home that I am at least accustomed to the taste, and had grown to enjoy it, even if I don't regularly seek it out.  I do miss the kiwi burger and Jbird and I had recently tried the canned version on our home made burgers.  However they're canned in water here instead of vinegar and don't quite taste right.  Anyway, while mum was here we sourced some fresh beet root tucked away in the leafy green section of the produce department in the supermarket.  That night we made a delicious fresh salad by grating some of the root, adding some of the leaves alongside other lettuce type leaves - alone, their flavour is overpower, mixing in some grated carrot, grated garlic, and a vinaigrette of olive oil, salt, pepper, and lemon juice.  Since then Jbird and I have enjoyed a version of this salad many times.  He doesn't love the fresh garlic on it and I agree it steals a lot of the flavour so I only add it rarely and sparingly.  The only vegetable I have found that didn't seem to improve this salad were fresh mushrooms.  I think they absorbed the oil, leaving the salad dry tasting instead of sweet and moist.  It's a lovely salad to enjoy in these winter months when fresh vegetables don't seem so appetising.   

*beet root - beets

A past adventure

I have been recollecting a tramp* I did with Alana in the foothills of the Himalayas in Nepal today, while I'm snug inside watching a few random snowflakes announce the cold/dreariness of these outdoors.  It was a memorable adventure with rhododendron scattered paths, views of the mountains to die for, bottled coke at many a tea house, and the company of a great friend.  

We'd chosen to go it alone from the start but found we needed help a day or two in and hired porters as we found them to carry our things for us.  Our first porter was a true Sherpa.  We met his family in one small village where the children asked us for pens and candy.  He wore jandals* and was a lot faster than the two of us, even with both our packs on his back.  While we struggled with the terrors of extreme tramping including potential hypothermia and actual swollen ankles and blisters, trudging through a bitter snowstorm; this porter was as sturdy as a mountain goat, always metres ahead of the two of us, in short pants and those jandals.  

He headed home to his family that night and the next day we found a new porter.  We also met his family at each of the many tea houses we went through.  Unfortunately for us, the visits were an excuse for him to drink rice vodka and by the end of the day he was a wobbly mountain goat and argumentative over the payment we offered him.  

It's the day after that that I'm particularly thinking about today.  Wary of hiring a new porter we were alone again, carrying our own packs.  We'd regained our strength and were feeling strong enough to conquer a mountain.    From the line on the map, I was sure we should find ourselves walking on a ridge.  Hoping for magnificent views on either side of our imagined ridge walk, I was disappointed to find that our path never came across this ridge, so decided to risk it and take a side track uphill to find the ridge.  All we found was an abandoned Maoist army training camp.  Feeling spooked by ghosts, we turned back to our original track, now 3 hours behind schedule.  

It had been a pretty great day up to this point.  We'd slept well and were very cheerful to be porter-less once again.  During our lunch break we'd laid in a sunny paddock of wild flowers with our food and books.  I think there was even a little stream running through it that we could wash our sore feet in.  We'd also had gorgeous views of mountain peaks, though they were behind us now.   But now we were tired and hours from the next tea house and dorm.  So we sat on the path and pulled out the treats we'd saved this far to try and booster some energy.  We pooled our resources and found we had a muesli bar, a few handfuls of scroggin*, some dry crackers, and the little packets of NZ butter we'd scavenged on the plane ride over from Bangladesh.  And what a feast it was.  As a child, butter on crackers seemed like the most revolting thing I could be offered.  But high up here here in the absence of shops and western food, it was the feast of a queen. 

*

tramp = hike or trek

jandals = flipflops/sandals

scroggin = trail mix

The mercedes of its kind

We bought our new pram recently...possibly a little early.  I haven't even had a scan yet, what if there are two bubbas in there?  On seeing it, Jbird announced it to be the Mercedes of prams.  That was rather sweet of him really.  Although it is a very nice pram, I think it's probably more like a nice new Ford than a Mercedes when compared to what I could have gotten.  Here are some pics as requested by a few lovelies at home.  

Time for an ad hoc

In NZ we love a good savoury pie.  Mince* and Cheese, Steak and Cheese, Chicken, Bacon and Egg, Steak and Mushroom, or the good old plain Mince.  We love to buy them from the Dairy* for lunch with a bottle of coke.  The primary ingredients are pastry, some form of filling (as named earlier), and tomato sauce* slathered liberally on top.

When my parents and my brother and his wife were here, mum and I baked a lamb roast.  It was kind of a celebration meal just because there were so many of us together for once.  We had pumpkin pie for dessert in honour of the upcoming Thanksgiving that mum was sad she would be missing.  After the meal we had a lot of leftovers.  A few nights later we threw them all together, along with some other items we found in the fridge, and baked them in a pie.  We decided to just put the pastry on top of the pie to be slightly healthier, similar to a chicken pot pie.  If this were a true New Zealand savoury pie, the pastry would completely surround the filling, like a sweet Apple Pie in the American tradition but probably eaten all over the world.

Thus became the tradition of my new favourite meal, named by Jbird: the Ad Hoc Pie. I've made at least one other Ad Hoc Pie since then and another last night.  Each time, Jbird and I love the meal.  Last night's pie had left over chilli con carne, steak, lentil and vegetable soup, and roast vegetables as its filling. 

* 
mince - hamburger meat

dairy - corner store

tomato sauce - ketchup 

Christmas cookies

Do we call these Christmas biscuits* at home or do they just not have a name?   

I had some kids I wanted to making gingerbread men for and Soph and I always like to bake biscotti together - although last year I also made it with Kate in NZ - so I got to and spent all day yesterday baking.  I still had to ice and bag the gingerbread men today.  The recipe I used is delicious, using molasses and lots of spices.  The gingerbread men turned out really cute.  They're also gingerbread elves, candy canes, Christmas trees, snow flakes, and snow men.  I've wrapped them up in cookie bags for the kids, as you can see below.  

We made three types of biscotti - almond and lemon dipped in white chocolate, chai-chocolate chip, and cranberry walnut.  The latter is my go-to favourite because of the chewy cranberries.  I've been so busy baking, I've only managed to trial the slightly over-cooked batch of the first recipe.  It went well with a big cup of tea. 

Although I had a really fun afternoon/evening with Soph with some great conversation, I'm exhausted now and I'm glad we're done.  I don't know if I want to see another cookie for a while.

*biscuit is the preferred term for cookie in New Zealand.  At Christmas time, I call them cookies, but I try to keep their NZ name for the rest of the year.  It's getting harder.

On my bike again

Now that I have more time on my hands, I'm going to make the effort to create more biking errands rather than avoiding them as I have been doing.  I need the exercise but I find it difficult to exercise without purpose.  I'm also going to try and start swimming at the IU gym but I have to convince Jbird or Soph to take me because they have memberships through their school fees.  

I love biking through the streets here because everyone has gardens and the streets feel nice and quiet and empty.  They are nicely undulating with lots of uphill and lots of downhills, so I'm getting a bit of cardio and a bit of fun.  My most regular bike ride is to the library and back.  It's only about a 20 minute ride there and back but we consider it as being 'on the other side of town'.  That's how small Bloomington is.  My favourite part of this ride is going through Dunn's woods on campus.  These woods are so unlike the bush we have at home.  The tall tall trees display each season so vulnerably on their branches.  They're wintery right now.

The start of a journey

I have recently been reading about the health benefits of sourdough and it has become my personal mission to try and bake it myself.  Regularly.  I've made a starter.  I added yeast to mine because I didn't know any better, but a true starter is made with flour that has been fermenting in water.  I think yeast grows in this naturally from your fridge/household.  I figure that the longer I can keep my starter alive, the more natural the yeast will become.

My first loaf was TERRIFIC.  Beautifully holey in the middle and crunchy on the outside.  But it was a white flour recipe - a sure fire way to make sure your bread rises is to use white flour.  I made my second loaf out of only wheat flour and found that it rose very nicely because I left it long enough, but it lacked the texture of my first loaf.  This may be because I forgot to spritz it with water which I have been informed creates the outside crunch and the inside texture - or it may be because I barely used any white flour.  I have my third loaf rising as we speak - it needs 12-15 hours for the first rise.  It's another white bread from a slightly different recipe, but I may turn it into cinnamon and raisin bread when I form the loaf.  I'm really excited about this process, it's the oomph I needed to get myself baking our bread again.

On the bright side of things

I woke up the day after that last post not exactly feeling better or more optimistic.  Mornings are a little bit hard for me since I've lost the sense of urgency I had not so long ago.  In a way it's nice, like being on holiday, but I guess I'm so used to urgency that I don't know how to let go of it and I miss it.  While I thought about getting out of bed, I read a blog about anticipation vs. anxiety and I came to realise how important anticipation is to me.  My last post was written at a time when I wasn't anticipating our future, instead I was dwelling on an overwhelming feeling of anxiety.  I placed the blame on our situation.  The thing is, those stresses on our life that cause me to feel anxious don't go away.  We've lived with basically the same ones since we were married - mostly financial, if you couldn't guess.  But we've carried on and survived and we're sure to continue to survive.  What's more, we both think we have everything we need.  It's not anxiety that keeps me here.  Rather, anticipation is what gets me up in the morning and keeps me moving.  Right now there is so much to anticipate.  I am determined to hold onto that while I live what can sometimes feel like humdrum daily life on a steep uphill slope.  Anxiety will only stop me in my tracks, leaving me miserable.

A little homesick

I know these emotions aren't true - I'm probably hormonal and they will pass.  But.  Today, I'd like to stop living this life and be at home in NZ living my old more normal life.  I'd like the security of a 9-5 job with all the benefits.  Work every day, maternity leave, holiday pay.  I'd also like to be able to see my family and friends whenever I want to.  And to know my groceries will fit into the boot of my car instead of wondering how I'm going to get them home on my bike.  That is how I feel today.  Bah.

Addendum: I do have some news that made me happy happy happy yesterday when I learned it.  And that is that Sophie will be here for Christmas!  Yahoo!!  I thought it was going to be a quiet one with just Jbird and I and I couldn't bring myself to feel excited about it BUT her plans have changed and she will be here too.  Bloomington Bike Gang Unite.

The upcoming concerto recital

Woops - this was supposed to post yesterday.  Sorry, it stayed a draft over night...

I have been cycling around campus putting up posters for Jbird's upcoming concert.  It's on Sunday at 1pm at the Recital hall, if you happen to be in town.  As I left the campus, I was cycling passed Jbird's studio and I heard his concerto wafting through the window as he practised with the conductor.  He's playing the Delius piano concerto. Jbird's sounding great and it's a fun piece to listen to.  I'm excited to hear it with the orchestra on Sunday.  Before that, I have to make enough sandwiches and brownie for 36 people for one of their rehearsals.  The logistics of freshness and transportation on the back of a bike currently fail me but I'm sure I'll work it out.

A night out

We ate at one of the nicest restaurants in Bloomington last night, Restaurant Tallent.  Jbird's teacher takes us there once a year.  It's the only restaurant he and his wife will eat at and he loves to stretch out the evening from appetizers right through to the digestif.  It's difficult eating out when you're pregnant.  There are so many no-nos, it can be quite mind boggling.  I know I ate at least two by accident - salami and a blue cheese sauce.  Oh well.  

I shared the beets with Justin for the first course.  Beets have magical properties in them and we've been having raw beet salad a lot at home recently.  For my main, I had the scallops with pigs belly.  When it arrived at the table it seemed really small, with only three scallops on it, but I found that the scallops with the pigs belly were more than I could eat.  The vegetables were divine, though unrecognisable - popcorn puree, spaghetti squash, pickled onion, and pecan.  For dessert I tried to share the persimmon bread pudding with Jbird but he'd had lamb for his main and had no more room.  Scattered throughout the evening we were also served crispy sour dough, a delicious meat and cheese platter, and some freshly made doughnuts with ricotta, and the aforementioned digestif.  I'm still fill this morning.

Holiday consumerism

For those of you in NZ who don't know much about Black Friday - which happens the day after Thanksgiving - it's like boxing day sales, except more intense.  People queue up at the doors of shops for hours to try and be in first to get the best deal.  The shops have been opening earlier every year.  When we first arrived it was around 7am, then 6am, then 4am, and this year it was at midnight on Thanksgiving day.  The deals are pretty phenomenal too but Justin and I stay away from them.  We don't have money to spend anyway and find the decision making process too hard because when we are spending money on something, it always needs a huge deliberation.  Cyber Monday is the following Monday and many online stores offer discounts or free shipping.  There are a few things I like to buy online like my cereal and shampoo so I shop around for the best deal and normally manage to save a few pennies.  It's pretty annoying though, looking out for the best deal, and I probably end up buying things I don't exactly need.  

This year I nearly convinced myself to get a sewing machine as I have a birthday coming up...in two months.  I found some decent basic ones for less than $100.  I had to do a deep soul search and realised that though I would hopefully make use of it, it's another hobby.  Hobbies cost money.  I would be buying material and thread, and probably ending up with a stash of material I won't use, as I have with wool for my knitting/crocheting and seeds for the garden.  And when/if we leave here, the machine will be the wrong electricity level for NZ.    I'm not exactly the world's best knitter and crocheter so I might just keep working on those for now. 

The Christmas tree is up

We set up our Christmas tree today which presented me all these lovely memories from our married season here in the States.  The first year we were here we bought a $25 fake Christmas tree. It felt really expensive to buy that tree at a time when our funds were at their most uncertain and it felt like our budget was stretched.  However, I decided that for me, a Christmas tree at Christmas is a necessity.  So I bought a packet of candy canes for a dollar and a cheap string of lights to decorate it with.  I was excited to find the Chrsitmas tree came pre-strung with lights and we could use the extra string to decorate a small part of our apartment.  

Now we have a lovely eclectic collection of decorations.  That first year, Mum and Dad sent us three decorations that are symbollic of NZ - a pohutukawa tree flower, a kowhai tree flower and a pukeko bird.  The next year they'd visited Australia and we got a kangaroo decoration.  Last year, Aunty Liz gave us some instruments, and this year we got a big star from my parents.  These decorations are all regular sized and kind of dwarf our tiny tree.  To add to these I've bought a miniature nativity set to hang, some miniature gold and silver bows, and a set of tiny ginergbread men and women.  Students have given us some large silver balls and a pretty angel topper.  A couple of years ago we made some decorations out of cinammon dough at church.  The dough is made out of apple sauce, glue and cinammon.  We then used cookie cutters to shape them, covering them with glitter, ribbon, and little red baubles.  They make strong decorations and smell delightful when you first open the box.   I've also crocheted some green and red flowers.   We have several strands of lights which we pick up at yard sales and thrift stores and we will hang them around our windows.  They're so pretty in these dimly lit apartments. 

I really wanted to buy a real tree this year but after a new pram,* I couldn't justify spending more money on a tree when I think of all the millions of things this new little baby will need.  It looks like my in-laws might visit next Christmas so perhaps we'll get the real tree for baby's first Christmas.

*I know I'm buying it relatively early as we're only 15 weeks pregnant, but it was on sale and I didn't want to miss out on the sale.

On celebrating Thanksgiving

I have been pondering this strange holiday which I have previously rejected as being my own and acted as a kind of observer of.  I've come to the conclusion that this is the wrong approach to take because it is my holiday too.  After all, it is not affiliated to any specific religious or specific cultural group, rather to the survival of the people in a young nation of both immigrants and natives (or that's my understanding, please feel free to correct me).  That is the thing that is so great about Thanksgiving too: it's for everybody.   

This year I've decided that I'm an immigrant of sorts too.  My visa may suggest otherwise, as I have entered on non-immigrant/temporary status.  But my plans are here right now, tied up in Jbird's degree.  Perhaps one day our status will change or perhaps we'll end up somewhere else.  For now, I'm living here, and I'm celebrating Thanksgiving properly.

What does that mean?  It's easy to get caught up in the food as everybody seems to place so much emphasis on it, on the twist their family takes with the same few dishes.  Food became the a symbol for all that we have to be thankful for so it is appropriate.  Today I've been taking stock of where we are, what we're doing, and who we're becoming.  Not through any ceremony but just in my thoughts.  Good enough for me.  Soon I'll be enjoying the company of others and considering the privilege it is to have friends to enjoy. 

The notebook

I recently lost an A4 (letter size) notebook.  It had a black cover and was spiral bound with blank thick cartridge pages.  Losing this notebook gave me a tight feeling in my chest.  I started using it at the beginning of the year, a time when I was trying to get my head around all that I had to do.  I used it to write notes for school, plan my weekly schedules, and write 'to do' lists.  As well as my weekly reminders, I had written three important lists in it: 'to do before I finish my study', 'to do with my parents' and 'to do post-study'.  I found the notebook today, six weeks later, having completed all those deadlines and had the visit from my parents.  Annoyingly it was exactly where I had expected it to be but my eye must have glanced over it in my  searching.  

I have a sense of relief in finding it, as though the notebook keeps me together in one piece and I'll be able to accomplish more because of it.  I don't know if I've alluded to the feeling I have about my sudden freedom.  I've had this freedom before - where I was a housewife, with nothing much going on.  It didn't turn out so well.  My self-esteem was crippled by being purposeless and I wasn't happy.  With nothing much to do and in cold weather, it can be difficult to get out of bed.  It can also be difficult to stay out of bed once you've gotten up.  After all, what is there to do out of bed?  Tasks which can feel important or unimportant depending on the sun.    

I have been known to enjoy this strange, unexpected life through accomplishing small daily purposes.  Staying in bed is the worst possible remedy.  So my notebook, my lists, and having a schedule are important to me.  They keep me going, keep me sane, and keep me accomplishing.  They all amount to getting Jbird through these degrees, loving him, and not resenting him for bringing me here.  Right now I'm also riding on a bigger accomplishment of my own: finishing a degree I had left partially completed for nearly a decade. 

Another turkey week

It's the lead up to Thanksgiving and I was at a friend's doing some prep-work with her yesterday.  Last year I made the Pumpkin Pie.  This year I made the cranberry sauce while she made the stuffing.  

Cranberry sauce is a hard one to fathom - I want to eat it as a dessert but it's a side for the turkey.  Today we made ours with nearly a whole pineapple and two and a half pounds of fresh cranberries.  The stuffing Ashley was working on is is quite different from the simple affair that New Zealanders stuff their roast chickens with.  Surprisingly it's rarely stuffed inside the bird but baked like a casserole or cake in the oven.  This way you can make enough to go around and it doesn't risk being covered in dangerous uncooked poultry juices.  I think Ashley's recipe had some ground meat, mushrooms, onions, celery, and I'm not sure what seasoning.  She will add bread and stock before baking it on Thursday.  

I have been given the job of baking the broccoli casserole on Thanksgiving morning.  I will use Ashley's grandmother's recipe.  New Zealanders will never be able to imagine the goodness of a green bean or broccoli casserole.  I can't really describe it, but along with the broccoli it needs mushroom and chicken soup (from a can), cheese, butter, crackers, and some time in the oven.  It's a relief to have someone give me a recipe and tell me what to do, helping me to fit in with the traditions of that family.  Our family doesn't have traditions but I'm collecting recipes.  I'm also going to try to bake some gingerbread men because I think Ashley's four sons will like them and they will go well with a cup of coffee if people can't fit pie.  Regardless, they should compliment any pie and not overwhelm it.

A step away from my front door

The morning Andy, Nicole, Mum, and Dad were all here we were all mulching around.  Andy was online reading the paper, Jbird was re-writing an essay (having lost a section of it on our trip to St. Louis which showed up later in the pocket of the suitcase), and we were all being lazy about showering and getting our breakfast together.  Eventually I got a bit frustrated because the morning was going and I had an appointment in the afternoon so I said to Mum and Nicole: Let's go check out the great international store around the corner while we wait for everyone else to get ready.  I called it an international store naively because it's the place I always think to visit when I'm craving something from home.  I probably won't be able to find the exact item there but I might be able to find a substitute from another British colony.  Actually, there's hardly anything from NZ there except wine and licorice allsorts (!!!).

As we were leaving, the boys all jumped into gear, feeling guilty for their lazy ways (except Jbird who had to go to school), and suddenly we had a party of five.  On arriving at the store, Dad and Andy were both immediately bored but Mum, Nicole, and I quickly became immersed in the wonders of this store.  It seriously has everything.  For example I went in there this afternoon looking for wheat germ, brewer's yeast, brazil nuts, dried apricots, and alfalfa.  The only item I didn't find was the alfalfa.  It is also a wealth of any herbal remedy you can think of, and has a huge selection of wine, cheese, olives, and teas.  

This is a stark contrast to when we first arrived in America.  The first store I found was basically a booze store which also sold a few grocery items.  I wondered if we'd be eating two minute noodles and overpriced sugary cereal for dinner for the extent of our stay here.  When I eventually found some real supermarkets I was overwhelmed for a while, especially when I tried perusing the freezer sections which generally consist of aisles and aisles and aisles of processed/pre-prepared food.  More freezers than any kiwi girl can imagine.  I've learned to avoid this section except when looking for frozen berries, peas, and a few other things.  Probably those items you most expect to find in the freezer section at home.

NB: if you live in Bloomington, the store is the east side Sahara Mart. 

A fail in the kitchen

I goofed up big time on a meal for our neighbours last night.  I was making slow cooked split pea soup with a ham hock*  and whole wheat focaccia bread.  First of all, I completely killed the bread - it was as hard and thin as a cracker. Bah to that.  The recipe called for 24 hours rising time in the refrigerator but I rushed it without adding extra yeast, silly me.  I guess I normally leave whole wheat bread to rise even longer than white bread so that might have been the second reason for its lack of rising.   It rose beautifully for the first two sittings but just sat there for the last one.  Secondly, my soup came out really really salty.  Unfortunately, if I follow a recipe, I like to really follow the recipe so Jbird can't say Did you follow the recipe? if it turns out wrong.  This recipe called for 5 cups of chicken stock* along with the ham hock.  My instincts told me: the ham hock will create loads and loads of flavour, you don't need chicken stock as well. But for some reason I ignored those instincts and added all that stock anyway.  When the soup was basically ready, I tasted it and was really annoyed to find that while it looked absolutely gorgeous and perfect, lovely and green and thick, it tasted really really salty.  To try and fix it, I added as much water as I could without compromising its thickness and served it anyway.  I think my replacement open face cheese toasties*** soaked up some of the salt.  I used some lovely Gouda cheese on them and it wasn't too sad not to have home made bread.

This morning I'm cooking up some more split peas to add to the left over soup to calm down the overdose in flavour.  I will freeze it in small one and two serving size Tupperware.  We love defrosting home made frozen soup for lunch in this cold weather.   

*some ham on a bone

** American term for stock: broth

***American term for cheese toasties: grilled cheese sandwiches

The end of the holiday

I have been driving for seven hours.  No, it doesn't take that long to get back from Chicago.  It took me that long because I had to drop mum at the airport, there was an accident on the highway, and I drove around the city for a good while looking for gas.  I have a cold and feel pretty crap.  I have to drop the car at the rentals, bike back, and teach two students.  Ugh.  So that is my post for today.  Sorry.  I just gotta get it done and then I can sleep.

On drinking coffee and other no-nos

To drink or not to drink while pregnant?  This is my daily battle.  Don't get me wrong, I'm only drinking decaf because I have taken a no caffeine from coffee stance.  But I'm still drinking decaf.  Because coffee is delicious and comforting and many say you can drink coffee anyway.  Up to two cups.  I've chosen to ignore their stance.  You may remember that I haven't even been drinking a whole cup a day now that I'm not teaching full time.  I don't really understand how regular tea is different from coffee and no one seems to think that tea is bad, not even my-mum-the-midwife.  So I succumb.  Now that I'm no longer feeling nauseas, it's getting harder not to.   Today was the first day I felt like a glass of wine but I find that one really easy to ignore because Jbird has told me he'd rather I didn't even sip alcohol.  So there we have it.  If he lays down the law, it turns out I listen.

The windy city

We've arrived in Chicago minus Jbird who is busy with work at school.  Just as we were about to leave Bloomington it started to snow.  This seemed crazy as yesterday was a lovely warm day when I didn't even put a jacket on or wear my slippers around the house.  It seems we got those bulbs in in time for a frost.  The snow was a blessing as it sent me scurrying back inside to increase the winter clothes I was already bringing, grabbing some tights and singlets*, and warmer winter shoes.  It turns out that this city has had me the very coldest I have been since last winter, and I am extremely grateful for those extra warm clothes.  

If you've been to Chicago, we're doing all the normal things and a few others.  Today we stopped in at the local library**, watched the sun set and the city light up from the top of the Willis nee Sears tower,  had dinner in what our waiter told us was Al Capone's booth at a local Italian restaurant***, and stopped in at the Millennium park to see the giant bean and the sound shell. 

We've sourced a free concert for tomorrow night and have some other plans besides, many thanks to a feed on my newly restored facebook page****.  We're having fun but I wish Jbird were here too.  

*singlets - kiwi word for undershirts. 

** American cities have fantastic libraries and I should remember to always include them on my city to-do lists

*** of course he told us that but it was fun to pretend it was true

****yes, I returned. 

Lasagne gardening

I was able to enlist my mother to help me with digging up the garden to prepare it for winter.  I have wanted to do this for a long time, and have been planning it since last year, but I've had to put it off until now because things have been too busy.  I also needed someone to help me because now that I'm pregnant, I am on a strict 'no-dirt' rule, not to avoid getting toxaemia as there aren't any cats around, but for listeria.  If you're not avoiding one disease, it's another when you're pregnant.  We didn't exactly give up on the rule because I was wearing rubber gloves, but I ended up doing some digging as there was soooo much work to do.  

Even though the tomato trees still had quite a few itty bitty tomatoes and flowers, we dug them all up.  We left the peppers because they survive in mum's climate.  I'm sure they'll die soon but that's no biggie. It's hard to remember how cold it gets, especially because I had my winter jacket on all last week but this week has been very warm again.  

In this cold winter climates we can plant seeds before the first frost as they should thrive if they've been in the dirt during a long, cold winter.  The risk you take comes from the fake spring frosts which can throw them off course.  They will possibly sprout up and die if there is a heavy frost or more snow.  We planted tulip, daffodil, and snow crocus bulbs.  I also scattered a bunch of seeds I'd collected over this passed season.  Mum wasn't quite sure about this idea but I've read and talked about it quite a bit and am excited to see what grows.  We laid down a bed of paper and leaves and then compost.  I had to buy the compost as mine still needs another year or two before it's good and ready to use.  These layers are why we call it lasagne gardening.  

This all sounds very civilised, doesn't it?  The reality is that we didn't do anything in the right order because we were in a hurry.  I was scattering seeds after the leaves had been spread, for example, so they're not very deep.  I'm also worried about the depth of the bulbs as others I have planted have been quickly found by the chipmunks or rabbits which like to visit.  We haven't seen any recently so they might be safe.  Our garden looks really bizarre now, with paper and leaves not quite hidden by dirt.  They seem to be holding in the wind, as opposed to last year when I didn't cover the leaves at all and they all blew away the day I laid them out.  I always feel great after doing some proper work in the garden.  My mum's a 'real' gardener but she was very complimentary about our tiny plot.

44 more days until...

...Christmas! Or so the little machine at Walmart told me yesterday.  I'm feeling rather proud of myself because over just two days I managed to buy all the most necessary Christmas pressies for NZ to send back with my parents.  I like to give but our 'belts are tight' so to speak, and there's the whole question of getting the items back to NZ.  Postage is phenomenal, often doubling or even trippling the price of the cheap little items we send over.   Needless to say, the NZ present side of Christmas can be quite overwhelming.   Last year I flew over to Heather and Tom's wedding just before so it was an easy Christmas to prepare for.  This year we're lucky to have Mum and Dad here to be our Christmas elves.  Unfortunately, Mum is a bit of a shop-a-holic so space is tight and I've tried to keep the packages small and minimal - immediate family only.  Over the passed couple of years I have made many the gifts - I had the time and the inclination - but I'm currently going through a not-very-crafty phase so all of these items are bought though I expect to make some things for people here.  It didn't feel overwhelming at all.  Now I can get on with the pleasant side of Christmas.  Or maybe I'll wait a few weeks.

A full house

We had Andy and Nicole to stay earlier in the week and our little house was PACKED with six adults all staying.  It was fun though, and unusual to have so much family all together at once.  I guess it's been a year since that happened, at Heather and Tom's wedding in New Zealand and both Jbird and Nicole couldn't be there for that.  Jbird and I were busy during the day but they all went to the different museums around campus, the best way to see it.  We had a lamb roast together one night, enjoying a NZ tradition.   We were missing half the family but we'll be together again one day.

Touristing till we drop

We have been running around this citty filled with history and country music - Nashville, TN.  Soph lent us her GPS and it has opened my eyes to easy navigating systems.  I don't think I'll go back to the printed google map directions Jbird and I keep trying to survive on, and getting lost with all the time.  Life is very nice when you can type in an address and be directed there by a small talking and moving map.  As I'm sure you all already know.   It's nice to come south, too, because the weather is a tiny bit warmer and my folks have been able to see the fall colours in more glory than they have seen them so far, all the leaves have dropped north of here.

Nashville is a great place to visit, as I've mentioned before.  There's too much to see, and it's very accessible.  We saw Elvis's gold piano and his diamond painted and white gold finished Cadillac at the country music museum.  We visited the Ryman auditorium: the birthplace of bluegrass.  We had lunch at a cute little French cafe, my favourite kind of place to eat.  We also visited Belmont Mansion, a house owned by the richest woman in America around the 1860s.  Our guide was amazing, she'd memorised her book and knew all the answers and more.  The house itself was beautifully restored with a lot of original artefacts.  These people were sooooo rich, it's nuts.  I wonder what we have in store for tomorrow. 

A happy ending

Jbird read a grade to me this morning: you got another 'A', Annabel. I was still mostly asleep and I was a little disappointed because I thought it was for the class I've been getting A+s for, the only class, and I had been hoping to get an A+ in at least that class.  High expectations.  

All day I haven't thought about it, I've been busy, and now I'm off on another road trip with my parents.  I came online very quickly just now, to see if I could write a word or two here, and thought to myself may as well read what my lecturer said.  Low and behold, the subject matter was about another class, a class I have been worried I would fail.  But I got an A.  What a lovely way to end that class.  Maybe Ed. Psych. isn't so bad after all. 

The heartbeat

I had my first visit with a midwife today which has made me feel a bit better about giving birth to a baby all the way over here.  I had to give two urine samples - I'm not exactly sure why - and a lot of blood for different tests.  I guess if you've had a baby before, this is all pretty standard stuff.  But is it standard to have a sense of overwhelming excitement and happiness on hearing the baby's heartbeat?  I'm sure it is.  For me, it was a lovely thing to experience. 

St. Louis, across the way

We spent the weekend in St. Louis.  Well, the day really, as we basically drove for an afternoon to get there and most of today to get back.  It's a sweet city and it was especially lovely to be a tourist in a city with a car where parking wasn't too pricey and there was plenty to see.  Normally we're on foot and exhausted by the end of any day.  We went to the zoo, up the famous gateway arch, to the old union station, and to a street we might compare to Parnell or Ponsonby in Auckland, or Kirkwood here in Indiana.  You know the type of street with lots of people wandering through the nice restaurants and shops.  We had dinner at an all-American bar called Blueberry Hill, famous for it's collectible paraphernalia.   I had an Aussie burger with tater tots which were delicious.  We then went to a movie in a cute little movie theatre which was American enough that we bought our tickets out on the street.  The movie was The Intouchables.  It's such a lovely movie, a real must-see.

Tomato cook up

We are having a tomato cook up bonanza as the last of the tomatoes from our garden ripen.  This has included soup, pasta sauce, canned tomatoes and some tomato chili chutney.  For the latter, Mum had brought some chilli peppers from her friends in Lake Tahoe and they attacked me!  Having lightly touched my nose with my chilli stained hand, it started to drip.  So I blew it.  But more chilli went through the thick paper towel from my hands to my face and before I knew it, the skin around my nose was burning and it was right down my nose and into my throat making me cough and sneeze and cough and sneeze.  What a powerful vegetable.  From then on, I handled the chilli peppers with gloved hands.  The chutney is delicious but I held back on the chilli because of the attack so it's not quite as spicy as I would like it to be.  There are still a few tomatoes left so I'm going to look around for one more recipe. 

Fun news

I have been dying to share some news for a really long time now and here we are, at the end of the first trimester, and I finally can.  We're expecting a baby!  We are 12 weeks into the pregnancy.  I wonder if any of my previous posts gave it away...I spoke about napping often, eating a lot.  I'm not sure what else, though I avoided any mention of nausea.  Falling asleep around 9pm - as mentioned yesterday - has become a common theme in my life too.   Are you even more impressed at my valiant effort to finish my degree?  It was hard at times but at least my morning sickness wasn't so bad that I ever threw up.  

I was surprised to learn that during the first two weeks of gestation, we're not even pregnant so that our gestation is actually 8 1/2 months instead of 9.  A friend of mine pointed out that someone could be 9 days pregnant without having yet ovulated...It felt like such a weird thing to learn this late in the game.  I mean, I'm 31!

Mum and Dad arrived yesterday, a day late after missing a connecting flight.  They've brought bags of baby clothes from my sister, as well as nappies and a nappy bag.  Mum and I are planning all the knitting we want to do for the baby too.  We're looking for a midwife and have finally found a lead.  That was the 'hard thing' I'd been putting off which I wrote about the other day.  Jbird and I are very excited and now that we're three months through, it's starting to feel a little bit more real.

A case of the wakefulness

I fell fast asleep at 9:30 this evening while I was reading a book, only to be woken by a phone call an hour later.  Now I am wide awake and can't seem to stop thoughts from running through my head.  Of course, the more annoyed I get about it, the more awake I become so I try not to be annoyed but then all that trying keeps me awake too.  I think I've been slightly grumpy for most of the day but because I didn't really have to socialise with anyone today and there is no reason for my grumpiness, it has had no place to present itself.  Until now when it's 1am and all I really want to do is sleep so I can wake up in a better mood. 

The truth behind my excuses

When I don't really want to do something, I often use my favourite cultural barrier excuse: They won't understand me when I approach them because even though it sounds like we speak the same language, there are so many nuances that are different, it feels like a completely different language.  It's my favourite reasoning to not doing many things and it sits on the tip of my tongue many times a day.  Pathetic, huh?  I use it more here than when I was living in Bangladesh and people legitimately came from a very different culture and spoke a very different language.  When I was in Bangladesh, everything felt like an adventure and I loved opportunities to throw myself at them.  Catching the local bus, for example, which many expats never attempted.  I would have to cover my head with a scarf and practice the little bit of Bangla that I possessed, sitting up the front with the ladies, or just squeezing in where ever there were two centimetres for space, nervously watching out the window and wondering if we were headed in the right direction.  I take that back; others were far greater adventures than I.  They understood more of the culture, were far more fluent in the language, and were more willing to get to know the locals.  But compared to some of the expats, living in their expat world, I was Tarzan.

Have you ever put something off for so long that when you finally went to do it, you realised you didn't really want to do it at all?  That in fact, all your sensible reasoning was really avoidance?  I'm currently putting something off.  This time, my verbal reasoning {what I tell people} is that I've been too busy and I have been waiting to finish school to get to it.  My inner voice reasoning {what I tell myself} is that this is a cultural thing: I'm not sure how to go about it here in the States.  If I were in NZ, people would do it in a similar way as I want to, and it would be easier.  But I realise now that the true reason is that I'm just a tiny bit nervous.  Actually, I'm significantly nervous.  But.  Others have done this before me so surely it can be done.  Plus everyone tells me now is the time!  And I will do it.  First thing in the morning.  You catch me if I don't.

A change in status

For the first two years that we lived here I was obsessed with my label, with being something {somebody} more than I was.  When we met someone new, the conversation would often start with how Jbird was here in the States to play the piano.  But then the person would turn to me and ask the big, sad question: "and what do you do?"  I grew to hate that question. 

When I pondered on what to answer, I tried to mix it up a bit.  Sometimes I'd start with: I go to the library multiple times a week, I've taken up crocheting, and I cook a lot.  I've put on 5lbs since we got here.  Or...I watch reruns of [insert current favourite show].  Because in that first year, I watched a lot of TV.  It was disgusting.  We haven't had cable TV since then and my life has been all the better for it.  I did often say I'm a teacher. But that was my least favourite answer because then I'd have to add on the visa pointers: but I'm not working at the moment because to get a job, I need to be sponsored by the company for a work visa...No, there are two types of international student visas, Jbird's doesn't allow me to work.  The other visa, the one he didn't get, allows a wife to work. etc. etc.  I made it too complicated because it was too important to me. 

Since we arrived in Bloomington last August, this hasn't been an issue because I could answer I'm a student.  It was a much more satisfactory answer to give and it also reflected how I felt about myself.  I have been doing something that helped my career and it has been great.  From last Wednesday, I'm no longer a student - so long as I pass everything.  However, I don't think I have the same anxiety that I had about who I am.  I kind of like just being me in the here and now.  At least, I hope I do.  I suppose week-one of my big status change is quite early on in the game and it's easy to be optimistic right now.

Maybe I will get some pointers by watching Jason Segel on the Five Year Engagement again.  Have you seen it yet?  You really must.  I know I've talked about this movie before but it really is my favourite.  Jason had to learn how to be himself away from the context he thought made him happy for his fiancée.  And he got really good at it, except that he didn't realise so he didn't let himself be happy.  Anyway, they work it out, and I think we've worked it out too.  Right now, I'm going to enjoy the sudden lack of deadlines with sleep-ins and not really very busy busy-ness.

Long awaited visitors

My parents arrive in the States today and I am ecstatic as I feel in desperate need of some family time.  We don't actually get to see them until Monday night but it will be all on from there.  Andy and Nicole (the newly weds) are coming to see us the following Sunday.  I tell you, this is better than Christmas.

The non-wedding parts of the weekend

The rest of our trip was as hectic as I thought it would be.  All Jbird wanted when we arrived around 9am was Cracker Barrel for breakfast.  By the time I decided I wouldn't mind it either, we seemed to have passed the last one.  We had settled on Waffle House, even pulling into the driveway for it, when I realised that that driveway was shared with a Cracker Barrel.  He was a happy man.  I was happy when we found a $4 skirt for me to wear at the wedding at the local outlet mall.  We spread the happiness a little further by also buying some jeans and a new top.  

We met Jeff (the groom) just as he was starting a tour of the Battle at Antietem.  Jeff is a guide tour for a living so it was neat to see him at work.  It was the bloodiest battle on American soil.  23,000 men died and neither side won the battle.  I believe they took some photos there with the wedding party.

Saturday morning, we made a mad dash to DC to visit Alana.  She fed us and we talked our heads off.  Alana was one of my bridesmaids.  We met in Bangladesh and she made the trip from the States to NZ to be there for us on our wedding day.   We were excited when she got a job in DC and we found out we were moving to Baltimore; we lived out of each others' pockets while we were there.  This trip was a bit hairy because getting in and out of DC is a nightmare, roads were closed on both journeys.  We left at 5am and got back to the wedding shortly after 12, just on time to start serenading guests as they arrived.

That night we slept a full eight hours and felt much better for it.  We left for Baltimore before anyone else was awake and made it into town in time for a birthday party of the little boy I used to babysit.  His parents had become our gaming couple as they also love settlers and introduced us to a number of games we'd never heard of.  Our day started with the party and was full of appointments for brunch/coffee/tea/lunch/coffee/dinner.  By house number three, I requested no food and no drink: let's just talk.  It was a really special day for us as we revisited this city we had grown to love and saw some people who are very dear to us, having shared those two years with us. 

While the day time driving was glorious with the colours of fall everywhere we looked, we were handicapped by only having printed google directions for all of our destinations.  For the most part they were fine but there were plenty of times when we had to call people and ask them to help guide us somewhere.  Next time we'll definitely hire a GPS.

A perfect kinda day

The wedding rehearsal was at dusk.  The lake was as smooth as glass, surrounded by fall foliage, and a fine mist was beginning to settle on the water.  Someone suggested music for the parents and bridal party.  This was a surprise for us but we'd prepared some extra tunes and started playing Ashokan Farewell.  Reportedly, Jeff turned to Marie and gave her a big hug saying "this is my favourite song!"  We were chuffed.

Afterwards, we attended the wedding rehearsal dinner.  This is a tradition that we don't enjoy in New Zealand.  It was nice to be able to sit down with our friends and catch up on the happenings of the passed 18 months.  Marie and Jeff spent some time introducing the people involved in the wedding, including the guy who fermented a keg or two of beer in his bath tub. 

The wedding itself was lovely with spectacular scenery.  A week before, Jeff had driven near the site to get the marriage certificate.  At the time, the trees were still mostly green.  By Saturday, their wedding day, fall colours were out in their full glory for them.  Lunch afterwards was a traditional American picnic with pulled pork, mac 'n cheese, chicken, coleslaw, and hot apple cider. 

Later that night we attended the after party.  It started in a space they'd set up with photos of their experiences on the Appalachian trail.  We enjoyed cocktails and hors d'oeuvre.  After the first dance and some speeches, we moved upstairs to enjoy cake and dancing.  They'd brought in their favourite bluegrass band to help us dance into the night.  Jbird and I had a blast.  The wedding cake had a special touch: Marie and Jeff had made a huge model of the Appalachian trail with desserts corresponding to each state.  They shared a piece of blueberry pie.  

Congratulations, Mr and Mrs. Sellenrick!