The Story of The House

In August I moved myself and the kids from our small transitional apartment to a slightly larger nearby house. It's great because it has a finished basement that I use as an office. The main living area is small, the kitchen and bathroom pretty much suck, but it has a big yard, nice wood floors and gets a lot of light; I can see the Berkeley Hills between the rooftops looking east and pink sun-set skies looking west.

The landlady gave me little to no information regarding the last tenant except that "she" was here a long time. However, soon I met the neighbors and from them I've pieced together the real story of the house.

Mr. Henderson bought this house back in the 50's. He and his wife raised two kids here - until they got divorced about 15 years in. My landlady grew up here. She had the room I'm sleeping in. Her brother had my kids' room and her parents slept downstairs in what is now my office. At some point in her adult life my landlady became estranged from her father. I guess they didn't get along well.

This year Mr. Henderson passed away and his daughter inherited the house. She had the floors refinished, threw up a coat of paint, updated the gas heater and put it up for rent. I became the lucky tenant.

While living here over the past several months, I've developed a fondness for (the deceased) Mr. Henderson. His presence is everywhere. From the garden equipment stacked neatly in the garage to the wires and duck tape he used to keep the stair rails in place. Evidently he adored lanterns and decided to use these outdoor fixtures in all the hallways and several rooms. They jut out proudly from the walls. (Watch your head!)

Mr. Henderson did not believe in replacing things. If it was broken, he fixed it-any way he could. He also wasn't the best housekeeper and I have yet to get all the grime off the bathroom floor. His ex-wife had trendy taste in decor and I don't think Mr. Henderson ever changed what she did in the early '60s. So I live with fabricated plastic stone walls in the living room and wood paneling in the bedrooms. I've managed to mostly cover the mirrored gold-marble tiles around the fireplace with a piece of furniture, but some things can't be hidden and must simply be embraced.

Upon request, the landlady has replaced the stove/oven and added a portable dishwasher as well as a clothes dryer. I've cleaned what I can and made use of the space in a way that best suits our family. I hardly notice the outdated style anymore - leftover on my walls, in my bathroom, the yard. It's my surroundings. My life somehow meshed with Mr. Henderson's.... But when friends come over for the first time I can see they don't know quite what to say. The reactions are priceless and I'm reminded that the interior is a bit silly. I'm always asked why I don't change it.

I can't. Mr. Henderson wouldn't approve.

Cranberry Sauce II

And here it is!

Cranberry Sauce

Remember when you were little and cranberry sauce came out of a can? Looking nothing like a "berry" it slid from the tin with a suck, placed on a plate and cut into neat round slices, sweet and jello-like. I loved it, but didn't really understand WHY it was served with turkey. (Geez! don't let gravy touch touch the cranberries! Gross!)

In 1987 I moved to New York and began having Thanksgiving with my paternal aunt (and family) in Long Island. Aunt Renee was deep into the "new" Weight Watcher's culture (she was employed by them and led meetings, etc.) so she was always trying new recipes. One year she whipped up a home made cranberry sauce - made with real cranberries! It was delicious.

Over the years I've made it as a staple. As with all recipes that are carried around in the heart (rather than a notebook or card) this one has transformed over the years. At this point, more than 20 years in morphing, I doubt that it would qualify for anything related to Weight Watchers. Still, people like it and request it. So I thought I'd post it here. Let me know how you like it.

Cori's Cranberry Sauce

1 bag cranberries
1 cup crushed walnuts
1 oranges
1 small can crushed pineapple (optional)
pinch cinnamon
pinch nutmeg
honey to taste (I use at least a half cup.)

• pour the cranberries in a pot and cover with water
• put on burner hi until water begins to boil and cranberries begin to pop
• allow cranberries to pop for about 10 minutes
• meanwhile - prepare the oranges by cutting off the peel and cutting out the sections being careful to cut around the membranes around the sections. Squeeze out remaining juice from the orange and set the sections and juice aside in a large bowl
• drain cranberries and pour into the bowl with the oranges
• while cranberries are still hot add the walnuts, pineapple (if using), cinnamon, nutmeg and honey. Stir together. Taste. Add more honey if needed. Don't be shy with the honey. It should not make your mouth pucker.

Let cool and serve with the meal.

Hiss in the Hole

In honor of Veterans Day: My dear friend Mike - a Vietnam vet - telling a rare war story with a happy ending.

The Maiden, the Bitch and Prince Charming (or, The Zombie Princess)

Maia and Joe have been really into old Disney movies. Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White are favorites. Have you watched these films lately?

The casts are painfully identical. All star a poorly treated (dare I say abused) maiden; an evil older woman; and a man–but not just any man, noooo–this guy is Prince Charming himself!

Similarities continue with the plot: maiden lives under the control of the bitchy older woman, goes through a series of horrid events, makes some friends, is found by Prince Charming and lives happily ever after.

Of the three, I think Snow White is most disturbing. There is a terrifying scene in which she is lost in the forest, eyes stare at her from every which way, screeches and moans can be heard before she collapses into a heap of trembling sobs. It's like a really bad LSD trip.

Snow White makes friends with seven men, dwarfs actually, who live and work together in the woods (WTF??). The guys are slobs and keep her around because she cooks and cleans for them. Furthermore, ALL seven of them harbor secret crushes on her and fight for private places to get their nuts off (OK, I made this part up. But it could be true. We don't know that it's not.) Our maiden leads her little friends on by doting on them and kissing their little noses and ears, foreheads and beards. All the while she moons over a prince she met once and was too shy to even speak with.

Enter evil woman who poisons poor Snow White with a shiny red symbol of lost innocence–the apple. One bite and she drops to the floor. Dead. The dwarfs turn out to be necrophiliacs of sorts: embalming the maiden in a glass casket (above ground) so they can gaze at her body daily. Feigning grief while privately taking turns fulfilling their deepest fantasies (We don't know that this is true, but it could be, and that's all that really matters.)

And so it goes until, having heard of this odd freak-show of a story, Prince Charming rides his white stallion to the casket. Overcome with passion (necrophilia) the gentleman kisses the (DEAD) maiden who, to every one's surprise, blinks her eyes and awakens. At this point, we can argue, Snow White is a zombie, she is of the living dead.

This doesn't dissuade the Prince from gathering his prize up and whisking her away to his castle where they live–and this part is really true, cause it says so in the movie–happily ever after.

Make My Meatloaf

Meatloaf goes over well in this house. Both kids like it. It works with pasta, broccoli, carrots, potatoes and a million other things that children will actually eat. One loaf lasts several days and is great on sandwiches.

So, here you go - my meatloaf recipe:

1 package (1.25 lbs) ground turkey
1 package (1.25 lbs) ground beef
1 package dry onion soup mix
1 cup bread crumbs (seasoned if you like)
3 eggs
2 cups chicken broth plus 1 cup for baking
ketchup
Root vegetables (optional)

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Combine the first six ingredients (turkey through 2 cups chicken broth)

The mixture will be very runny.
Pour the mixture into a oiled baking pan and shape it into a loaf.
Squeeze ketchup over the top -- as much or little as you like.

Pour 1 cup of chicken broth into the bottom of the baking pan.
Add root vegetables to the pan around the loaf. (if desired)

Bake for one hour or until cooked through.
If you find it is browning too much, cover loosely with foil.
Serve immediately with a glass of red wine.
(Or a glass of cranberry juice.)

Who's Confused?

I'm angry.
Pissed.

All my life I've had male friends. PLATONIC male friends. But now, I've been told, that these guys are, in fact, out to jump my bones. Furthermore, I am "confusing [my] children" by having single PLATONIC males as friends.

On the other hand, the father of my children insists he is "exemplifying the importance of the family unit" by having group sleepovers with his girlfriend and her son. Yes, the two adults sleep in the same bed. Yes there is, what my daughter calls, "kissy kissy" between them. And this is a good example for my children. Right? RIGHT?

Honestly - I don't think either is bad. I believe that it's important the kids see us friendly with all types of people. Young, old, rich, poor, black, white, abled, disabled, gay, straight, divorced, single, widowed, female or MALE. They should see that men and women can be friends OUTSIDE the bedroom (*kissy kissy*). My gosh, my son's best friend is a little girl. I hope they are friends forever.

I'm not in a "kissy kissy" relationship right now - at least not one that I care to share with my children. The guys we hang out with were there BEFORE the end of my marriage. LONG before. They were ALREADY enmeshed in the lives of my kids. NOT seeing them would be weird. For all of us.

It baffles me that people don't understand this.
It pisses me off.

But I said that already.