Our Patriotic Cake

from glorioustreats.com

Ok, so above is the picture of what we wanted to make for our friend's 4th of July party. Fun right? So we set out to make it. Now because I am often impatient, I did not refer back to the instructions, which was my first and repeated mistake. Primarily this resulted in me having to make an extra cake because I initially baked 2 white cake rounds instead of a white and red, then a red and blue. So altogether we had 6 cake rounds. Six! Oy. If only that were the worst of it.

Assembling proved difficult as I injured my wrist and was trying to rest it, so I had to give instructions to my family while I watched. By the time we got all the layers together, on a scale of "Nailed It!" to "Epic Fail", we were cascading toward the latter, as you can see below.

At this point, I was ready to throw in the towel, but Megan was desperate to bring this cake to the party. We left it in the refrigerator overnight, hoping it might pull its act together by morning. It did not.

But wait - cutting in to it proved that there was hope! Yes, it seems we managed to make two red stripes next to each other (yet another proof of Gina's strange reluctance to actually refer to instructions. You would have thought that trying to fit 3 cake round halves alongside one cake round and wondering why they weren't the same height would have been my first major clue. 1/2+1/2+1/2 is not equal to 1).

So we trimmed around the outside and made an obscenely large second batch of frosting with which to cement the cake together long enough for it to be consumed by the hungry, patriotic masses. Here it is waiting to be judged in our little mini-competition:

We won "most patriotic" which seems fitting somehow - the American way always seems to be a fight against the odds, isn't it?

Next time, (if there is a next time) I think I will just use red cake and put copious amounts of white frosting in between as the white stripes. I mean who doesn't love more frosting?

Surprise!

I love surprises. To me, they communicate that someone took the time to think of me, and I'm all about quality time. Thankfully my parents like surprises too, because I gave them a big one last night by showing up three days early.

Here's the story - about a month ago, my uncle passed away unexpectedly. My mom's sister passed away last summer (2008) and her other sister also passed away a few years ago this time of year. So this year marks the first without anyone with my mom's side of the family coming for Thanksgiving, which we celebrate on the weekend.

When all this happened I thought, "Our tickets were free (paid for by the company and frequent flier miles). Why don't I spend a little and change my ticket so I can be back with them for Thanksgiving?" So I got my brother to come pick me up at the airport and we were set.

It was hard not to mention it to my mom, especially when she said on the phone last week, "Maybe we should just wait until you guys get back to celebrate."
"No, no you shouldn't. You should do it on Sunday," was my response.

The flight from China is SO much nicer than coming all the way from Singapore. I got on at 5:30 p.m., so after dinner it was almost time to sleep. I normally don't sleep much on the flight because we used to leave at 6 a.m. from Singapore, but I think I got in about 4 hours. I went through customs in Chicago, which was slick. There was no line! And I always enjoy when the customs worker says to me, "Welcome home." It's honesty one of the only times in my life when I am very conscious of being American.

I had a great drive home with my brother and enjoyed the excitement my parents and sister had at seeing me. It's a beautiful day here in Minnesota and I'm glad I can spend it with my family!

Deluded

Along the way in Singapore I have deluded myself into thinking that the prices I pay for imported items aren't THAT much more than what I would pay here. Oh how great is my self-deception.

I'd think things like, "Hmm . . . Pop Tarts for S$5. Those are what - $3 in the US? Maybe $2.50. That's about right." Pop Tarts are $1. That means about three times more. Fortunately I've decided Pop Tarts don't make the healthy cut in our house and we don't buy them.

Cranberries! Once a year in Singapore I spring for a bag of cranberries. They're usually about S$8. But they're probably expensive in the States because who but the people in New England grows cranberries? Apparently enough to make the US$1.49 at Walmart. Oy.

Oh, and dark chocolate Hersey kisses, my biggest vice in Singapore. They are S$6.95 at Mustafa. They were on sale the other day here 2/$4. Think of how many more bags of chocolate I could have bought by now! Is this not tragic?!?

I could go on, but you get the idea.

The up side of this dilemma is that it makes me more willing to spring for something better here. Sure, the yogurt I bought yesterday was one of the more expensive ones, but it was a bargain compared to what it is in Singapore. I'll enjoy it while I'm here.

Back in the Saddle

When we woke up yesterday morning we'd had four inches or so of new snow overnight, and the snow machines had worked overtime so there was about a foot of fresh powder. I decided I couldn't let that hill lick me. Well, at least I couldn't let hills in general lick me. I could let Sterling lick me. This time.

We dropped the kids off in ski camp again and Erik, his aunt Barb, and I headed up Lower Morse. I like calling it Lower Morse because otherwise I'd have to call it the bunny hill which sounds wimpy. So we headed up Lower Morse and slowly made our way down. I've never skied in that much powder before (I've skied a total of about 10 days in my life so I don't have much to draw from) and it was both fun and more challenging. It felt a bit like going over the wake when you water ski - not sure how it will affect you. The first run down was tough because I was concentrating hard on not going too fast, which meant my legs were dying by the bottom. We did about 5 or 6 runs before I said I'd had enough, but by the end I felt my confidence coming back and was actually starting to enjoy it. As much as someone who really isn't a fan of downhill skiing can enjoy it.

Aside from blistery winds, it was a decent morning. At one point we went straight for the main lodge instead of left toward the chair lift. I came to a point where the snow was untouched and about two feet deep, right next to the snow machine. I'm not sure what happened but my assessment is that I lost power and got blown over by the snow machine while I was at a dead stop. I managed to look like an idiot by myself this time, as I tried in vain to push myself back to standing (my arm went all the way into the snow up to my armpit).

My knee still feels weird if I straighten my leg completely but I'm thankful I was able to get back up and not come away with a renewed injury. We'd back on level ground in Minnesota again.

The Morning After (and the day too)

I awoke this morning to light rain and a bum knee. Just as well - it meant my family couldn't go off and have fun without me. Instead they would have to stay and have fun with me, on level ground. I've forgotten how weather can be so variable in the U.S. Saturday it was about 10 degrees and clear skies. Yesterday it was 30 degrees and cloudy. Today it got up near 50 degrees and drizzled a great deal of the snow away. Tomorrow's forecast: 25 degrees.

In light of rain and limping people, we went to the Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory and got a tour, which of course ended with a sample of what they were making today: Mint Chocolate Chunk. Good stuff. It's been so very long since I've had really good ice cream. Asia just doesn't do dairy. Did you know Ben and Jerry's employees get 3 free pints of ice cream a DAY? I thought that was just the stuff of legends.

After the ice cream tour, we went to a glass shop and watched two men blow and shape glass into beautiful, ridiculously expensive pieces. I kept thinking, "I wish I had a specialized skill like that." But I couldn't think of anything I'd really want to devote my life to learning, so I guess I'll just get over it.

Then into Burlington for lunch and a quick walk down Church Street, which is a pedestrian shopping street, and back home in the rain. The sun going down between 4-5 means we always have this feeling like, "Shouldn't we be sleeping by now? Why haven't we eaten yet? Something's wrong."

Tomorrow it's back to the slopes. There's a chance of snow tonight that will hopefully make everything pretty again, and the hills will be groomed and ready for everyone but me.

Ski Catastrophe

Here's what you need to do right now - go to Youtube and find the most spectacular ski wipeout possible. Preferably it should be one on a medium slope, and the skiier should be on your left, gaining speed in a uncontrolled way. He (or she) should trip to the right, get the right leg trapped underneath his (or her) body, slide across the hill to your right, maybe flipping once or twice, and glide to a stop several feet before plunging over the edge of the mountain to his (or her) death. Oh, and all the while you should hear a strange "I'm out of control!" kind of scream coming from that person. Did you find it? No? Oh, maybe that's because no one on top of Sterling at Smuggler's Notch, Vermont, had their camera going this morning. If they had, they would have caught that exact scenario, starring me.

Thankfully I was in the best of hands - the president and the public relations director of the resort (read: excellent skiers) were right behind me, as was my former ski patrol husband. While small children swooped past me, chuckling under their breath, my family untangled me and helped me down to an easier place, from which I could navigate the rest of the way down. It wasn't pleasant, as I had to strike a balance between staying in control and not putting too much pressure on my knee. But I made it without incident.

Where did I go wrong? Well, I should have insisted on listening to the voice inside me that said, "I need to start at the bunny hill again." But I didn't, and the rest of my party was confident that I could join them on the bigger slopes. That confidence is now shattered, at least until I've refreshed myself on an easier hill.

But there will be no more hills today. Not sure if there will be tomorrow either, as my knee is officially tweaked. I thought it might be broken at first but the ski patrol said I'm good. But there's plenty to do at Smugg's that doesn't involve embarassing falls. If not for Erik, I would never attempt to downhill ski anyway. I much prefer cross country or snow shoeing. Anything with less potential for speed and injury.

The kids on the other hand will be surpassing me in skill within the next 24 hours. We caught up with them at lunch where they informed me that their ski instructor, Eric, would be taking them up the hill after lunch because they are now "experts." If only I could have started so young, I might have avoided today's debacle.

What to do with snow

When it started snowing and turned cold here, I mentally panicked a bit and thought I might end up spending the rest of our time inside. How could I go outside when it was so cold?! But the arrival of several inches of snow, and the possibility of cute "kids in the snow" pictures drew me out with the kids, Erik, and my brother this morning. Turns out it's really not all that cold. You just have to dress for it (which I am now able to do again thanks to Old Navy).

We tromped down to a hill by my parent's house that was blanketed with untouched snow about 6 inches deep. We brought four sleds and a shovel (shovels actually make decent sleds). After I'd taken a few pictures and returned the camera to the house, I joined in on doing what we did when we were kids. It all comes back to you - when faced with chilly temps and loads of the white stuff, you keep warm by configuring the snow into various play devices. In our case, we built jumps for sledding.

After building what we thought was a great jump, we sent Christopher and Ethan down for the inaugural run. We think the weight of the two of them together somewhat destroyed the jump, but that's part of the fun - you rebuild better. After a few runs, it had had enough but not before watching various family members launch themselves over it.

At that point I'd had enough, but it was a fun trip down memory lane. Forts, people, tracks, angels, jumps - there's no limit to what kids will make from snow. And it looks like we have enough of it to try every one.

The Magic Kingdom

My first trip to Disney World was when I was six, so it seems fitting that Megan's first trip would be at the same age. I think six and up is the perfect time to take kids to Disney. Our kids were wired with excitement as we parked, took the tram to the "transportation center," hopped on the monorail, and entered the Magic Kingdom.

We thought it might be better to hop on the train to the back side of Disney and make our way forward to avoid crowds. Turns out the train's pretty slow, so I don't think we beat anyone, but it was a fun ride nonetheless. The first ride we hit was Goofy's Barnstormer, which is a mini-roller coaster. Ethan and I went together with Megan, Nonna and Erik soon to follow. Ethan laughed the whole way, and we had barely slowed down when he exclaimed, "Let's do it again!" I think he might have been happy just staying there the whole day. But we moved on.

I have some strong memories from my first trip which kept cropping up as we moved through the park - the Mad Tea Hatter's Ride which, as it turns out, is more fun when you're six; Snow White's Scary Adventures, which we avoided after we scared the pants off Megan in the Haunted Mansion; Pirates of the Carribean, where you can tell which animatronic people were created more recently than 1980; and the Jungle Boat Cruise, which was on a much larger river when I was 4 feet tall. Or so I remember. It was fun to relive my own memories while watching the kids make their own. And thank God for fast passes, though this time of year isn't a busy time at Disney. We hardly had any wait time for any rides.

The only part of the day I really didn't enjoy was Space Mountain. I know - it's one of the best rides, and it was Megan's favorite. But having my petite six year old, who barely made the height requirement, be flung back and forth in her seat in front of me in almost total darkness terrified me. Especially since by that point of the day she was all into the "raise your arms like this, it's more fun!" kind of coaster riding. I reached as far around the seat as I could and clung to the hood of her sweatshirt, like that would help if she launched from the car. I know, irrational of me, but I couldn't help it.

What surprised me about Disney was the amount of crying I observed. There's no crying at Disney World! C'mon - it's a magical place where dreams come true! Can I offer an explanation and perhaps a warning? The children who were crying were the little ones - the ones who were scared of the rides and the giant characters, tired from missing naps, and from being dragged around a huge amusement park. They're just too young. Save your money. They won't remember it anyway. Unless you know that your kids are troopers who love new experiences, take them to the county fair until they're old enough to appreciate it.

Wait until they're five or six, then have a great day with them, like we did.

My Native Soil

Took a walk in the woods today, and I felt very much at home. It's like the cold wind and the smell of dry leaves calls to distant memories buried deep within me, years of growing up with this kind of nature and weather. Even now as I look out the window and see black trees against a fading sunset (and it's only 5:02 p.m.) it feels so familiar. It's like finding something I lost a long time ago.

For the kids, it's all brand new. Like discovering what happens when you play in icy water with your mittens on. Despite our warnings, Ethan kept crawling back to the stream any chance he got to break apart the ice crystals and send them swirling through the water. He also kept picking up wet logs so he could carry them to the next part of the stream and use them as battering rams. Of course this made his mittens, boots, pants and jacket damp. We weren't too strict about it because it was relatively warm today, but part of me realized how much you learn as a kid growing up in Minnesota about the dangers of winter. This is knowledge our children of course completely lack.

They also continue to display an obliviousness to the cold. Ethan was out playing ball in his socks today. They constantly run outside without their coats. We keep bringing them back in, instructing them to put more on, but they insist they aren't cold. In fact, they've spent the better part of this day out doors - right now they are raking leaves and burning them in a bonfire. (Where there is fire, there is Ethan).

I have tried my hand, or rather, my feet, at running in temps other than 80 degrees for the first time. Well, the first time I can remember. It's much easier, though I find that I have dry wheezing when I'm done because I'm used to air that is filled with 80% humidity. I'm thinking of running with a medical mask on my face to hold in the moisture.

The fire is raging outside, so I think I'll go join them and make sure no one gets too close. Where fire is, there Ethan is, and he's not quite as fire safe as we'd like him to be yet.

On Being in Minnesota

We're about 30 hours in, and so far the Great Minnesota Visit of 2008 is going well. I managed to make it through the entire 16 hours of flying without sleeping a wink, which led me to sleep from 8 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. I'm hoping for the same tonight. I also hope the kids do a repeat, which was sleeping from 8 p.m. to 9 a.m.! What's the trick? Dogs. They are obsessed with the two dogs. They walked them, played with them, fed them, and generally drove them crazy all day. Who needs toys?

Also of interest was the snow. What snow? You look outside here and see nothing but brown, it seems, yet the kids find any remaining remnants blown up against buildings or left in crevasses, and scrape them into snowballs.

I attempted to replenish my winter wardrobe in an afternoon at Old Navy. I did manage to come away with a sweater, three turtlenecks, a shirt, two pairs of pants, a shirt for Erik and two for Megan, all for just over $100. America is glorious.

What has surprised me is how the kids have reacted to the cold. When we've traveled to temperate climates in the spring, the kids whine, "Why is it so COLD?" and it's only 70 degrees. So when they walked into the house and stripped back down to their t-shirts (Ethan even unzipped the bottom half of his pants) I was shocked. Ethan even went outside briefly in his bare feet. What's going on here? I think the concept of wearing more clothes is just too foreign to them.

So that's the scoop so far. I'm thankful that the weather is atypically warm (in the mid-30's) - I'm hoping to go for a run, or at least a walk, tomorrow. If you're near Rochester, give me a call!

Where's Home?

I made the mistake recently of saying something about, "When we go home" in front of the kids. Megan looked at me and said, "What home?"

I have tried to refer to Minnesota as simply, "back in America" to avoid this confusion. The reality is, as many times as my kids have been there, as much as they love it, it is not home to them. Really, it's not "home" to me like it was before. This is yet another aspect of being third culture people - a sense of displacement. This isn't really my home, but that isn't anymore either.

As a Christian, this doesn't bother me much. As I quote from C.S. Lewis the other day on my homeschool blog, "Our Father will refresh us with many pleasant inns on the journey, but he would not encourage us to mistake them for home." We are citizens of heaven, and if my home on this earth is less than ideal, well that's fine with me. I'll get a better one later.

In the meantime, I watch what I say and direct my kids toward their real home.

Absent-minded ballot

I have tried and failed to vote by absentee ballot in the last two presidential elections. In 2000 I opened my ballot to find I had only a state ballot, not a national one. I don't know how that's possible, but since I hadn't been in the U.S. for a year and had no idea who was running, I couldn't in good conscious vote for any of the people on it.

In 2004, we had just moved to Singapore, so I had my dad go to the court house and request an absentee ballot on my behalf. Something didn't go through, so I requested another one online. It showed up in my post box on the day of the election. I still have it. It will make a good social studies lesson one of these days.

This year, I will not fail. I have just gone online to request a ballot, and I was confronted with this interesting question:

Last Residential Address
a. I know my exact address
b. I will describe my former address
c. My last address was a rural route.

I was tempted to click on the second option, just to see how they wanted me to proceed. How do you describe your former address? Do you say, "Well, it was this kind of slate blue craftsman style house about a block past the Blockbuster downtown"? Or describe like, "We lived in this suburb outside of Minneapolis. I want to say it started with a P. Does that help?" And the person on the other end of cyberspace goes, "Oh, ok, yeah, I know just the house you're talking about!"

And how cluttered does your mind have to be that you don't remember your last known address?

Well, I do know my last known address, so I'm right now ensuring that my husband will also be permitted to vote this year. Speaking of the presidential elections, you have to watch this funny clip from David Letterman.

Olympic Fever

We've been watching the Olympics here in Singapore, and while our kids are having a hard time deciding who they should cheer for (China? USA? Singapore?) I am surprised at my resurgence of patriotism. This week I am a pure American, searching random events like steeple chase for my American to cheer on, screaming for the fantastic American swimmers, tears streaming down my face as I watch the American flag rise.

Homeschool has been bumped around a bit to make room for men's and women's gymnastics, and watching Michael Phelps rack up the golds. I've been worn a bit thin by all the questions the kids have - it's hard to explain the scoring system of Olympic gymnastics to six and eight year olds. Or the rules of soccer (football to the rest of the world). Or why I'm crying because a 16 year old just got a medal. Especially while I'm trying not to miss what's happening. But it's fun to see them discover sports they've never seen before, and be inspired by these athletes. Megan keeps setting up our furniture to mimic gymnastic apparatus. Ethan's made up a sport using a tennis ball in a sock, tied to a string, being thrown against a tall thin box. Not sure if he has a name for it, but it's him versus the box and he keeps winning. Big surprise.

I miss the American commentators, because they tend to give more interesting background on the athletes, and are more informative about the sports. But here we get to enjoy British commentary and I have to say that the gymnastics commentators are particularly fun. They rarely say anything negative like, "Oooh, that's going to cost him!" Instead they say things like, "Bit of a wobble there, but that just shows his great strength to hold on!" while the reality is the guy almost fell off the apparatus. You just enjoy the routines for what they are though when they end with someone saying, "Well done young man! Good show!"

Leaving Eden Prairie

Our last day in Eden Prairie, MN, we did a little photo shoot with Erik's family (minus Andrew, who's in Japan).

Fun with Uncle Christopher

One of the easiest toys to operate is an uncle. This one comes specially equipped with various noises and impressions sure to delight children and adults alike. This skill is employed well when reading aloud to children (as demonstrated here doing the voice of Scooby Doo to perfection). His above average intelligence combined with his off beat sense of humor results in quick wit and clever tales that will never be doubted by children, though they should be. He is also physically strong enough to bear the weight of several children and willing to be used as a jungle gym at any time. Unfortunately, this model is not portable and will have to remain in the U.S., much to our disappointment.

Summer Highlights

As our return approaches, I've been thinking about our three months here and what we enjoyed the most. If you ask the kids, they say, "Fishing, candy parades (meaning the fact that they walk away with a bucket of candy from each parade), playing with the dogs, and spending time with their friends Dawson, Abby, and Ben, in Colorado."

For me, the highlight was not just spending time with friends and family, but spending enough time with them that I have been able to learn lots of little things I can't learn over the phone, or from any amount of consistent communication. For example, a few weeks ago I took my sister to buy a new party dress. Having been with her, I knew exactly what kind of necklace would match the dress so I bought it for her birthday. It's this kind of personal knowledge that I will miss.

In addition, we particularly enjoyed: sliding down snowy hills in Colorado, Como Zoo, the Children's Museum, Stillwater bed and breakfast, the Ryghs, the Schmidts, Cordillera Reunion, visiting grandma and grandpa Brenna, mine, quarry and cave tours, waterskiing in upper Michigan, and of course relearning our Minnesota accents (dontcha knOw?)

Enjoying the States

In our three months here in the States, we have managed to spend time in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, North Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, Ohio and Vermont. Granted, Ohio was only the airport, but we've made our rounds. We still haven't been able to convince the kids that all of these places are part of America, but they're learning. We just got back from spending a week in Vermont at Smuggler's Notch (which, if you're looking for a family ski vacation is THE place to go - right by Stowe). Vermont is unspeakably beautiful and our time there was a little cooler than usual. We filled our days with hiking, mini-golf, swimming (when we could!), geocaching, a side trip to the Rock of Ages granite quarry, and even a Segway tour (more on that lady).

The best part of this little jaunt was that we were joined by Erik's two aunts and uncles on his dad's side, as well as his parents and brother. It was fun to get to know this side of the family better, and to learn geocaching from his aunt and uncle (we're hooked!). I had a wonderful morning hiking up one of the ski hills by myself to see a panoramic view of the green Vermont countryside.

Now back in Minnesota for our last week, we are looking ahead at temperatures in the low to mid-60's until we leave. It's hard to believe I normally live in a place with constant temperatures that has never seen the underside of 70 degrees (except inside). In fact, we've had so much fun here I believe I could stay forever. I'm not looking forward to going back to a new apartment full of boxes, in need of paint, and far from our friends. So I'm going to enjoy every last minute we have here.

Minnesota is closed

No attempts should be made to enter Minnesota these days. In addition to the 35W bridge collapse, they closed I94 last weekend, effectively cutting off both north/south and east/west traffic at the same time. If it were me, I might think to stop all construction on the other highways surrounding the Twin Cities, but I'm not in charge. So trying to use alternate routes has proven an excellent way to strengthen one's patience. On top of that, all the confusion seems to have caused people to lose control of their vehicles more than usual. So if the construction's not stopping you, a roll over is. We haven't had a normal drive through the area since June.

In the south, don't come unless by boat. We've had record rainfalls, excessive flooding, houses literally floating away. It just isn't a sensible time to get around in this state. You've been warned.

Wild Places

I bought a book this summer called The Geography of Childhood: Why Children Need Wild Places. I thought it would be good for me, since I am not by nature an outdoor person (in the winter I've been known not to leave my house for 4-5 days at a time). Also, even though Singapore is a beautiful green city, it doesn't have the backyards readily available here. We have to seek outdoor places.

Tonight I enjoyed watching my kids explore the outdoors in Erik's parents backyard, which is a good size and lined with trees. Ethan gathered sticks for a fire, and Megan took a bucket to collect "acorns" (actually pine cones) to throw on it. She got mud stuck between her toes and dirt on her knees, and I loved it.

As a kid, we spent hours outdoors, usually in our backyard, often in the park across the street, sometimes a few blocks away at the creek. It makes me sad that I don't seem to see kids out as much as we did then. I hope to reverse that a little with my kids, and not just by spending time in the pool. I love watching their imaginations come to life.

On Driving 35W North

If you follow US news at all, you probably heard of the bridge collapse in Minnesota recently. That happened about a mile south of where Erik and I used to live off of Broadway St. when we worked at the University of Minnesota. I always hated that bridge, the ka-thunk, ka-thunk sound it made when you crossed it.

Today I had to drive north on 35W to get to Como Zoo, so it was on my mind. I passed under a bridge south of it that looked a bit worn, and for a second I had a palpable yet irrational fear that it would drop on us. This thought had never crossed my mind before the accident of course. As I got closer to the collapse I had a mixed sense of sadness and community, like I was drawn into the experience of the people around me who were just as likely to have been on that bridge as those who were. When tragedies like that happen, the media often focuses on how neighbors and strangers come to the aid of victims, in a way that shows pride and an element of surprise. Why should we be surprised? I think that the day no one responds to someone else's pain will mark the end of humanity.

So anyway, I wondered how I might feel getting closer to that, and now you know. Tomorrow we may actually get close enough to see it when we go to downtown Minneapolis.