“You should take a picture of the front of my house so I can enter it in this house redo contest.” My mother said when I was over for Thanksgiving preparations. I did. But then I never sent her the pictures. But here they are here.
Thanksgiving Rolls
So I need to confess my “thing” about Thanksgiving Rolls. I love dinner rolls. A nice hot, flaky dinner roll made with white flour and topped with melting butter is one of my favorite food things in the world. I rarely have dinner rolls. The yeast, the rising, the this, the that. They take forever to make and I’m a busy person. But at Thanksgiving, there HAS to be dinner rolls. Not Rhodes Bake-N-Serv rolls. Actual scratch-made dinner rolls. Usually I volunteer to do this. And I make some good rolls. Except that one year I forgot to plan out my baking schedule and it turned out I didn’t have time to make rolls. That year we had cornbread biscuits. Those were okay, but not the transcendent dinner roll experience I was looking forward to.
So this year I’m informed that my Mom’s friend Linda was coming to Thanksgiving. Yay! We like Linda. Then my mother tells me that Linda will bring the rolls.
“Wait.” I said, instantly suspicious, “does she know about the importance of Thanksgiving rolls?”
“Oh, yes.” My mother replies.
“But,” I continued, not believing her, “does she understand that they have to be from scratch?”
“She said she was bringing rolls. She has the perfect recipe.”
“But there are a lot of kinds of rolls. Does she know how to make them from scratch? They aren’t going to be Rhodes Rolls, are they?”
“Oh no,” my mother assures me, “Linda can cook. She’s a good cook. “
I am not convinced.
I arrive at my mothers house Thanksgiving morning to find Linda working on her rolls. At the time, she was heating butter and coloring it pink. When I asked why, she showed me the mold. She was making pink doves out of butter. I tried to integrate pink doves into my flaky, fresh baked from scratch dinner roll concept. It sort of works. A little. I guess.
“So tell me more about the rolls,” I say in a casual, no big deal manner.
“Well, it actually was kind of a pain,” Linda begins her story. My mother chimes in intermittently. It seems that the store (store!) was out of the kind of rolls (rolls!) the recipe calls for. They had to go to three different stores before they gave up.
“What exactly were you looking for?” I asked. My vision of Thanksgiving rolls–even ones with pink doves of butter melting on them–began to fade. Memory doesn’t serve as to the exact answer, but it seems that Pillsbury or some other manufacturer does not make the exact kind of refrigerated (!) rolls specified by the recipe. They eventually gave up and bought another kind of refrigerated rolls.
While half watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and then the incredibly boring Dog Show, I keep an eye on roll preparation going on in the kitchen. The sheets of refrigerated rolls are being cut into strips. Linda is arranging them on a baking sheet. There are green sprinkles appearing?
“What are those for?” I ask, unable to let the green sprinkles go by without comment.
“The rolls.” Linda answers. As if green sprinkles are often paired with rolls. Although they do seem to go with pink doves of butter. At this point I’d resigned myself to the Thanksgiving rolls I’m getting, not the ones I want and I amble over to see what Linda has created.
“So what exactly are you making?”
Linda explains. “See, the rolls get shaped into a tree, and then I put the sprinkles on and a little star at the top and then, after I bake them, I put the doves in the tree.”
And lo, she did.
“What are these?” Chris asked as they were coming around the table. He’d been over at Aunt Pat’s all day, and missed the initial roll preparation. Linda explained all about the rolls.
“Would you like one?” she asked.
“Well, they are interesting…” Chris trailed off, but took one. I think he might have a thing about Thanksgiving rolls too.
I took one. And ate it. And ate another. Not bad.I enjoy having guests at our holiday tables because they always bring new directions of conversation and new things for us to enjoy. I hope Linda comes again for Thanksgiving. However, next year? I’m bringing the rolls.
Three sentence movie reviews–The Simpsons Movie.
Unlike some TV shows with full length feature films *cough* X-Files *cough,* this translated nicely to the movie screen, though I was watching it at home for free, so it wasn’t that much different from television. The Simpson’s team has honed their game to an art form and there were many delightful moments including Lisa’s cute boy interest explaining that though he was from Ireland and his dad is a musician, he wasn’t Bono. I laughed out loud several times, which is a rarity for me when watching comedies alone at home.
It’s been several decades since the 70s
However this gentleman has apparently not gotten the message. Those familiar with the cruder–and less generous–side of that decade know that this sticker says, “Grass or Ass. Nobody rides for free.”The best part? The sticker is affixed to an El Camino. It’s not a car. It’s not a truck. It is possibly the ugliest car every made.
We have a problem with the bus mall, er, I mean “transit mall”
The Portland Transit Mall is the new name for the Bus Mall. Before 2008, the major bus routes ran through downtown North/South along the Bus Mall, which took up SW 5th & SW 6th avenues. The Red, Yellow and Blue lines all ran East/West through the downtown area, so the buses and the trains crossed. The Bus Mall was easy to navigate. The city was divided into four regions, each designated by an icon, and each block had a stop for two regions. This was quite handy in two ways. First of all, you could access all the buses that ran though the bus mall in the length of two-blocks. Secondly, if you lived in an area that was served by more than one bus, as I did when I lived close-in on Barbur Boulevard, you could stand at the bus stop serving your area and grab the first bus that came by.
The transit mall has changed all that. Because the Yellow and Green Max lines now run on the former “bus mall”–as do cars, which I really hate, but that is another post–Trimet has changed the “area” plan. The icons are gone, instead replaced by letters. I can never remember what letter I’m supposed to stand at. The stops are much, much further apart and it is harder now to catch multiple buses that go to one place. But the biggest problem of the new Transit mall? Shelter.
If you have heard of Portland, you might know that it rains a lot here. Sometimes, in the dead of winter, I think of Forrest Gump talking about the many different kinds of rain in Vietnam. It’s a bit like that here, just minus the tropical setting. We have beautiful summers (July, August and September) but most of the year it’s raining very hard, raining a little, or looking like it is going to rain. So when waiting for our famous public transit, it is very good to be out of the rain.
Here is a picture of the shelters that used to be along the bus mall. Notice the huge, overhanging lip. That’s to keep the rain off. This is because the rain rarely falls straight down here, unless there is a downpour. Notice also the wooden bands around the outside and inside of the shelter. Those give someone something to lean on. When it is really rainy and the weather is blowing everywhere, there is also shelter inside. This inside shelter provided a place where you could stand, lean, and watch for your bus all at once. There were also a few seats to sit in, too. There were two of these per block, so everyone waiting for a bus had the option of shelter.
Here’s the block downtown in the new Transit Mall where I wait for my train. Do you see any shelter here? There actually is one, and you will see it a few photos from now, but it is so insubstantial as to not show up in this photo. The Max trains are one city block in length. In November 2009, Max had an average weekday boarding of 117,300 people. That’s a large city getting on the Max every day. This stop is one of six northbound stops for the yellow and green lines. It’s also right in between the east/west Red and Blue lines. A lot of people stand here waiting for a max train. Some of them are tired after a long day. Where are they supposed to sit? What can they lean against? Notice that gray building on the right? That’s Pioneer Courthouse. It is a working federal courthouse.Here’s the sign on the fence around Pioneer Courthouse. The sign tells people not to sit on the historic stone wall. Yet this is also a place to wait for Max with little seating or places to lean. Guess what happens?
Here’s a view from halfway down the block. Due to the lack of seating or sheltered leaning space, someone has taken respite on the ground. You can barely see the shelter in the background.
So here’s what happens. That shelter–that would be the flat, glassed roofed thing on the left, has two seats and very few places to lean. So people sit on the stone wall.
A close up view of shelter. When the wind blows, where does the rain fly? Right into the “shelter.” Because there is only one of these per Max stop, an entire city block worth of people have to take shelter in this tiny space. This is ridiculous, and not workable on a commuting day when it is raining.
In addition, the two (TWO!) seats provided are at an odd height. When I sit in them, my feet don’t touch the ground unless I slump over as the woman in this picture is doing.Many of the shelters have a vertical wall of glass on one side of them. But there is a gap between the top of the glass and the flat top of the roof. The rain and wind fly right in and there is nothing to lean against, except the glass itself. Who designed these? Did they have any knowledge of Portland weather patterns? Did they take into account any commuter preferences?
When the old shelters (one has been preserved and will be turned into a coffee shop) were pulled down to make way for the bus mall there was a lot of talk about the drug dealing that took place inside them. I’ve spent a lot of time waiting for buses in those shelters. I never once saw a drug deal. You know what I did have? A clear view of the bus, with places to sit and lean and protection from the rain. The current shelters say, “we have to give you something for protection from the weather, but we don’t want you to be comfortable. We don’t want to spend very much money on it, either.”
Thanks Transit Mall. So far I don’t like the “improvements” at all.
Three sentence movie reviews–Whip it.
Like the goldfish in the bowl, one thought kept reoccurring as I watched this movie: “Why can’t they make more movies like this?” How often do we get to see a smart, articulate young woman work very hard for something she loves who is not a boy? Even Juliette Lewis didn’t bug me, and I can’t recommend this enough.
Bechdel score: two women: yes. Who talk to each other: yes! About something besides a man: YES!
Laundry
A rare sight in my laundry journey. An empty laundry basket. I’m pretty good at doing laundry on a regular basis, so dirty laundry never really builds up. But clean laundry? Often times the laundry basket is holding the clean laundry waiting to be folded and put away as the dirty laundry is piling up in the closet in the space where the laundry basket goes. Interestingly, in the summer, when I can hang out the laundry to dry, I don’t have any trouble putting away the clean laundry. I think it is because I can fold it as I am taking it off the line. The other problem I have is that in the winter time, I’m mostly headed for bed when the dryer buzzes. So I’ve moved past chore mode to rest mode.
End of two trees
This tree and another one like it live down the street from me. They are old and clearly planted in a time when people didn’t plan for where the power lines would go. So today seems to be their last day. I stood outside the Indian grocery watched the man in the tree remove a few limbs. It was rather hypnotic.
I felt a little sad for the trees, but not knowing anything about the situation, I didn’t get too worked up. It must have been an interesting task to cut them down without also taking down the power lines.
Black pants.
Due to secret project that is upcoming, I’ve been videotaping and seeing myself live and on screen. What I’ve discovered? I really need new uniform pants. Like a lot. And quickly.
And here we go on the hunt for black pants that fit. I hate everything about this enterprise–the going to the store, the finding the black pants, which are always in six or seven different locations at the store, the dressing room mirrors which are always much too close to me, the having to bring two sizes of every brand because there is not standard sizing, the feelings of dissatisfaction with my body. Other things I hate about the process? Limits on the number of items you can bring in dressing rooms and store personnel who want to assist me. Thanks, I’d rather experience this disappointment and annoyance on my own. I avoid those last two by hitting Macy’s first. They leave me alone and don’t guard their dressing rooms.
At any rate, I managed to get myself to the store and through all those obstacles. I narrowed it down to two contenders. The Macy’s brand which was okay and a pair of Calvin Klein pants that I loved how they felt but the larger size was just a bit too big and the smaller size was just a bit too small. Due to the not-quite right fit and the fact the Calvin Klein’s were twice the price of the Macy’s brand, I went with the cheaper option. The pants look great, but they are lacking in any pockets which would be a big problem at work if I didn’t wear an apron to contain all the items needed for important Administrative Coordinator work.
One big check off for me today!