Tragic Sandwich

Tragic Sandwich

  • Solo Travel: A Weekend of One’s Own

    Sick = short on posts. Fortunately, Ginger of Ramble Ramble has another prompt: Do you/have you traveled solo? What do you like about it? What don’t you like? What makes it so different from traveling with other people?

    I’ve traveled a lot–I’ve been to 49 of the 50 states, and every continent except South America and Antarctica. But nearly all of that travel has been with family or friends.

    When I moved to New Jersey, I thought I’d travel a lot. Airlines (at least at that point) offered great last-minute weekend fares to Europe–and I’d be so close to JFK!

    But then the California-based Mr. Sandwich and I started our long-distance relationship, and that meant that if my flights weren’t taking me to San Antonio to visit my parents and brother, they were taking me to Los Angeles to visit him.

    Before that, though, I did manage to plan and go on one weekend getaway.

    Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I was able to find an affordable work-in-progress B&B right on the Hudson River, in a town called Rhinecliff. (Rhinecliff is just a couple of miles from the–at least locally–much better-known town of Rhinebeck. Neither of them is pictured here.)

    Hudson River view

    The drive up is aptly identified as scenic, and I took my time driving along the back roads (not even Route 9, but 9-D).

    Based on a brief stop that I never repeated, the town of Cold Harbor (also not pictured here) may be my dream spot. If it isn’t, keep it to yourself.

    At this juncture, I can’t tell you much about either Rhinecliff or Rhinebeck, but I did visit a number of historic houses: Franklin D. Roosevelt’s childhood home of Springwood, where he is buried; the Vanderbilt House, which is so rigidly symmetrical that it is ugly; and Val-Kill, Eleanor Roosevelt’s retreat where I apparently took no pictures.

    Springwood manor
    Springwood: a lovely place to grow up and be buried
    Vanderbilt House in Hyde Park
    Sure, the Vanderbilt House looks innocuous enough from this angle, but it actually gave me the creeps in person.
    Gardens at Vanderbilt House
    But the gardens were very nice.

    I also spent one day with one of the co-authors of a textbook I was editing; when she learned that I was going to be in the area, she insisted that I drive over and join her. She was prickly on paper, but I really had a great time with her and a couple of her friends who were also visiting.

    My main memories of the weekend are that I got to explore an area that I might otherwise not have (it was a little far for a day trip, particularly with that many sites), that I was able to choose what I did and to set my own pace, and that it was a little lonely, particularly in the evenings.

    And in spite of the loneliness, I wish I’d done more of that while I was in that part of the country, because there are places I meant to explore but never got anywhere near (Finger Lakes, Montauk, the Adirondacks).

    So I guess I’ll have to go back someday and discover them with Mr. Sandwich and Baguette.

  • Alphabet: L

    For the past couple of weeks, Baguette’s teacher has had us send in things that begin with a particular letter. This week, it’s L. So we assembled some items and helped her identify them, and then dropped them off.

    What did we find?

    collection of items beginning with letter l

    And if the ladybug, lion, lemon, leopard, lock, and laces aren’t enough for you, then perhaps you’ll enjoy one of my favorite Sesame Street segments of all time:

    Baguette’s a fan.

  • Mom-Friendly Meals: Stone Soup

    Remember the story of “Stone Soup“?

    I’ve always been a little conflicted about that story. Sure, the villagers were miserly with their food stores. So you can read it as the story of how a traveler convinced them to open up and be a community.

    But can’t you also read it as the story of someone who entered a town, tricked everyone into eating the last of their food, and then left a starving village behind?

    Fortunately, one of the main points of the story doesn’t involve trickery at all. It simply involves using what you have available.

    The other night, I wanted to make soup. In the freezer, I found chicken stock and a variety of frozen vegetables–peas, corn, and spinach, in this case. And in a jar on the counter, I found what I think was linguini (I’m not sure why we had it, since we tend to buy capellini, and since I am not terribly well-versed in pasta varieties, it might have been something other than linguini).

    Now, if I’m shopping to make vegetable soup, I might include carrots and bell peppers. But I didn’t have time to go to the store, so I used what I had on hand.

    I put the stock in a pot and added some water (I hadn’t thawed enough stock, I realized after the fact). When it came to a boil, I added the vegetables and broke the linguini into smaller pieces. Once everything was hot and the pasta had softened, I added some salt and pepper–you could, of course, add any other spices you want, but I kept it simple this time.

    Stone Soup

    What have you got on hand? And what can you do with it?

  • Bert and Telly Have Been in a Standoff for Days Now

    HPIM4202

    HPIM4206

    They seem pretty friendly about it, though.

  • Mom-Friendly Meals: Farro and Yogurt Parfait

    I bought a bag of 10-minute farro at Trader Joe’s. Preparing it is super easy: You boil it for 10 minutes, and drain. That is all. And then you have a big bowl of farro, which you can use in a host of ways (substitute it for rice, for example).

    Also, you can do this:

    farro
    Put farro in a bowl.
    farro and yogurt with honey
    Top with plain Greek-style yogurt and drizzle with honey.
    farro with yogurt, honey, and berries
    Add berries.

    Farro, yogurt, honey, and berry parfait. Tons of nutrition, incredibly easy, and delicious.

    Also very portable (although I’d probably put the farro in a separate container to keep it from getting soggy, and then assemble this at work).

    Eat hearty!

  • “Happy Birthday, Daddy”

    That’s what Baguette whispered to Mr. Sandwich this morning.

    Autism Awareness bike jersey

    Here’s how he’s spending the day.

  • What Doesn’t Kill You

    Ginger of Ramble, Ramble has more writing prompts this week. I couldn’t choose, and they seem to go together, so here you are:

    Prompt 1: What are your sick day must haves? Do you want certain foods, shows, clothes, drinks? What makes you feel better when you feel crummy?

    Couch, pillows, TV, fleece blankets, PJs, Wicket. Basically, all the soft things.

    I don't know about you, but I feel better just looking at her.
    I don’t know about you, but I feel better just looking at her.

    Prompt 2: What’s the sickest you’ve ever been?

    Nearly every story about the sickest I’ve ever been includes vomit. Lots of vomit. So I think we should skip those stories, and I think you will agree.

    The obvious exceptions are the time I had pneumonia (at an out-of-town conference! that required plane travel!) and the time I had swine flu. Ah, swine flu. Good times.

    One Friday in late February 2009,* I had a D&C for my second miscarriage, which (like miscarriages 1, 3, and 4) did not happen without some help. On Sunday, I was supposed to get together with a couple of friends to watch the Oscars. Because of my surgery, they kindly came to my house and brought all the food.

    We snarked the Red Carpet so viciously that at one point Mr. Sandwich had to come inside to see what we were shrieking about (one of the hosts had done something so unfortunate to her face that she was trying not to appear on camera, but since she was the host, she kind of had to). The ceremony began. The snarking continued.

    After a couple of hours, I started to feel under the weather. I thought, “What I really want to do is go lie down, but if I do that, my friends will feel that they have to leave. And I’m totally fine with them staying, I just need to lie down.”

    But since I didn’t want them to go, I stayed put in the recliner.

    After another hour, I thought, “What is this? I’m so sore and achy. Wait. Is this the flu? It’s been a while, but I think this is what the flu feels like.”

    By the time the show was over and everybody went home, I felt as if the inside of my skin was being sanded. This is not a good feeling.

    The next day I had a follow-up appointment with my OB-GYN; from his office, we went to our primary care doctor. As the morning progressed, Mr. Sandwich started to feel achy.

    The primary care physician prescribed antivirals for both of us, and we headed off to the drug store.

    Which could only fill one prescription of antivirals.

    Back home, we swathed the couch in microfleece throws (because the perfectly fine upholstery was too rough for feverish skin) and settled in.

    Oh, and while this was going on? I was borderline hemorraghing from the D&C. (You do not want to know.)

    Both the flu and the bleeding went on for most of the week. We spent much of it on the couch, looking sadly at each other and saying, “I’m really sorry I can’t take care of you, but I feel so sick.” And the other one would say, “Please don’t worry about it, because I feel that sick, too.”

    We also learned that, even with the blinds closed, the afternoon sun cast so much glare on our TV screen that we couldn’t really see it. And since TV was the only form of distraction we could manage (books are so heavy), we kind of needed to see it.

    Mr. Sandwich draped the windows in more microfleece throws. Fortunately, we have a lot of them.

    And those antivirals? We felt no different at all for taking them. They didn’t seem to help in the slightest. The fever, aches, chills, and clamminess persisted in spite of the drugs. (We still got the second prescription, and we each took all of them that we were supposed to. In case you were wondering.)

    But on the other hand, we didn’t die. So there’s that. Because people do die of swine flu.

    And after we were well, we replaced the window coverings with wooden blinds.

    So I guess you could say that we were so sick, we redecorated.

    See those blinds behind Wicket? Those blinds.
    See those blinds behind Wicket? Those blinds.

    *Sources say that the first reported U.S. cases were in late March. But given the severity of our symptoms and the speed of their onset, we are pretty sure that we ran into it at the hospital, before doctors knew about the outbreak.

  • Mom-Friendly Meals: Grilled Sausage and Potatoes, with Broccoli

    We seem to be having an Endless Summer in California right now, even if you’re not a surfer. But that doesn’t even matter, because in California, grilled food is a year-round option.

    What’s easier than grilling? Grilling using foil packs.

    Two layers of foil. Potatoes sliced into 1/4-inch rounds (no need to peel them–just scrub well). Minced garlic and a mixture of butter and olive oil. Oh, and fresh rosemary, because our house came with a rosemary bush so enormous that there’s no using it up. But the dried stuff will work, too.

    Wrap up that foil tightly and put the pack (or packs) on the grill for 25 minutes over a medium-high heat. Toward the end, put some sausages on the grill and cook for 5 minutes (these were pre-cooked sausages), turning occasionally.

    Meanwhile, put broccoli florets and some salt and pepper into a steamer, and steam for six minutes.

    Sausage and potatoes with broccoli

    Enjoy.

    Oh, and set some aside for leftovers. Instant lunch.

  • Swimming to Mommy

    I love the water. My mother loved the water. And, as it turns out, Baguette loves the water. We started taking her to swimming lessons last fall.

    When she turned 3, the Y would have had her switch from a parent-child class to an instructor-led class, with no parents in the water. Baguette would not have done that. So we took a break until the city pool opened, and we started going there. Baguette loved it. And, we quickly realized, the joy of the pool made her want to talk. She talked more, and more clearly, and more enthusiastically on the days when she went to the pool.

    Mr. Sandwich started taking her every day. And she put it all together.

    DCIM100SPORT

    DCIM100SPORT

    DCIM100SPORT

    DCIM100SPORT

    DCIM111SPORT

    DCIM111SPORT

    DCIM111SPORT

    DCIM100SPORT

    She can kick, she can reach, she can hold her breath for about 15 feet. She smiles and claps underwater as she swims. And after each pass, she’ll tell us what she’s going to do next: “Swimming to Mommy!” “Swimming to Daddy!” “Swimming to steps!”

    Our girl has found her element.

    All photos by Mr. Sandwich.

  • Fine Dining at Bargain Prices

    You know that thing? The one where the people you love make your eyes roll extra hard?

    Yesterday afternoon, my father-in-law calls to ask if we want to join them for dinner. “It’s too hot to eat here,” he says, “So we can go out.”

    To Burger King.

    Because they have coupons.

    Mr. Sandwich’s family is made up entirely of fitness nuts. His dad will comment on someone’s BMI and speculate on their resultant health at the drop of a hat. He once told me that he likes to offer ice cream bars as dessert, because a guest is less likely to ask for seconds.

    At the same time, a coupon is a coupon. As Mr. Sandwich says, “My father has always had an appetite for a deal.”

    Since we in fact have nothing planned for dinner, we take Baguette to the pool and then head across town (Again, we have been invited across town. To Burger King.) I call to let them know we’re en route, and Mr. Sandwich’s mother is delighted. She calls to Mr. Sandwich’s father to get out from under the car, which he is fixing.

    Also, she hangs up just as I say, “We’ll meet you there.” So I call her back a few minutes later, and that turns out to be a good move, because she is startled that we are not coming by the house and then all driving over together.

    I do not want to get Baguette in and out of the car an additional time. We say we will meet them at Burger King, and she tells me the intersection and says, “It’s next to the Subway and across from the McDonald’s.”

    She also instructs me, “Don’t order until we get there. We have the coupons.”

    McDonald’s is about two miles from their house, and is where they get “Senior Coffee” after their morning run. (My in-laws are in their late 70s and win their age divisions in races, so of course they run to McDonald’s).

    McDonald’s is also home to the Big ‘n’ Tasty, which, as my father-in-law is fond of saying, is “just as good as In-n-Out.”

    NO. NO, IT IS NOT.

    We pull into the parking lot, and agree that while we may be waiting to order, we are not waiting to order for Baguette, who is the most likely of us to start screaming when she gets hungry. She screams, “Fash! Faaaaaash!” This means “hungry,” except for when it means something else, and I don’t know why either of those things is the case.

    So we order chicken nuggets, fries, and milk for Baguette, who in short order bumps her milk and spills it on her fries, but thankfully is not upset by this turn of events, possibly because there are chicken nuggets to be had.

    The woman at the counter says, “Is that all?” I answer, “We’re waiting for my in-laws” and think better of adding, “They have coupons!” because the woman at the counter seems very nice, and it’s not her fault that my in-laws are, um, extra quirky. So while I probably had a completely insane expression on my face, at least I didn’t say anything that went along with that.

    I feel even better about it when my in-laws arrive, and it turns out that they are regulars at this Burger King. Apparently there is more than one place to go for Senior Coffee, and they come here so often that the staff gives them gifts.

    Fortunately my father-in-law realizes that he cannot reasonably require us to confine our choices to the remaining unused coupons in his coupon book, and we order food that we suppose we’ll be okay with, because neither of us particularly likes Burger King, with or without coupons.

    And it was, just as we anticipated, totally mediocre. It wasn’t bad–although I didn’t feel good afterward–it was just meh.

    But it did remind me that I never wrote the final post about my Cheeseburger Challenge. So let me just skip to the end: Burger King has an edible small cheeseburger. Del Taco, a late entrant, turns out to do reasonably well (although theirs is priced a little higher). The winner, such as it is–and just as I thought it would be–is Wendy’s.

    Based on how icky I felt after last night’s meal, though (and not just last night’s, but the last several fast-food meals), I think my next fast-food adventures will focus on a Salad Challenge.

    I just need to come up with a better name for it.