Happy Fall!

The leaves have turned (or perhaps completely fallen where you live) and the air is finally getting cool. To celebrate, I thought I'd share with all of you the wassail recipe that has come to be known as Karen's Wassail among my circle of southern friends.

In truth, this wassail recipe belongs to the Macktown Historical Society. Stephen Mack was a pioneer who settled Macktown in what is now my hometown, Rockton, Ill. The namesake of my middle school married the namesake of my high school - Hononegah, disputably the daughter of a Potawatomie Indian chief. There are two stories as to how they may have met. One legend has it that Mack became sick from fever and that Hononegah nursed him back to health. In another, Mack was an advisor to the local chief but was despised by the people because he refused to sell alcohol and firearms to them. So they plotted to kill him. Hononegah reportedly either hid Mack in a barrel or met him in the woods to warn him of the plan. Mack became so grateful to her that he decided to be her husband. (Thanks, Wikipedia, for refreshing my memory.)

As a girl my girl scout troop and I, led by my mother, would dress up in Victorian dresses and help the historical society give tours at Mack's home, just a few minutes from where I grew up. We'd decorate a little Christmas tree with ornaments we'd made in the style of the time and sing Christmas carols from the parlor to visitors. And in the kitchen there was always hot wassail on the stove, filling the entire house with a sweet aroma.

So here you go. Enjoy! And Happy Turkey Day!

Karen's (stolen) Wassail
1 gallon apple cider
4 cups cranberry juice
2 cups orange juice
2 cups brown sugar
4-5 cinnamon sticks

Combine ingredients, bring to a boil, and simmer for 10 minutes. Can be refrigerated and reheated. Serve hot with cinnamon sticks.

The New Addition (no I haven't had the baby yet)

So I have a rambunctious dog, an indoor cat I have trouble keeping indoors, am still grieving over the loss of my other kitty, and am in the middle of a dozen major house projects. Oh, and I'm pregnant, and have all those life-changing experiences associated with that coming up in the very near future.

What better time to get a new kitten?

We didn't plan on it. I sent David to the vet last week to pick up Jonas from his annual exam, and the vet told him she was thinking of us the other day. Then she showed him The Kitten. David couldn't resist. He held her, played with her, even took her picture. And then came home with those same sweet pleading eyes he had when he first saw Joe's pound puppy photo. The vet said The Kitten loves people, dogs and other cats. Which describes our household. And she's just plain sweet.

We took the weekend to think about it, then decided what the heck. The vet said we can bring her back at any time if it doesn't work out - even six months from now. But it looks like it's going to work out. She's quite the cuddler, and it's actually been really great having a new little bundle of energy running around.

We're introducing her to the other pets slowly. Right now The Kitten is confined to the back bedroom, a paradise of toy mice, scratching pads and kitty beds. David and I trade off spending time with her and with the other pets, around whom we try to act like nothing's different. Mazzy doesn't seem to notice the new addition. This weekend we're going to try putting a towel that The Kitten's been sleeping on under Mazzy's food bowl to get her used to the smell. Eventually we'll move up to letting them sniff each other from under the door, then give The Kitten more and more run of the house. I think she's ready for that step now. She's already made a break for the hallway several times.

Jonas seems to be adjusting much more quickly. He's been very curious about what we've been hiding in the back room. So this morning David let him in. He had him lie down while The Kitten explored around him. Joe showed no interest in her - he was focused only on the treat in David's hand. Reportedly The Kitten thinks Jonas' tail is the greatest toy in the world. After batting that around for awhile she bravely ventured up to his face, and he let her sniff him without growling or making any threatening faces.

Now we need a name. We're really stuck on this point. Ironically we had no trouble coming up with boy and girl names for our unborn child but now sit around the dinner table throwing around names for a cat. So we are now open to suggestions. Anyone got any good cat names? We're feeling the pressure to find one soon before she becomes simply The Kitten forever.

Prison Break, Season 2

Crazy, I know. Two blog posts in a day from me. I definitely should be safe from Bill's stinky fish email for awhile. But had to share with you a "Guess what Jonas did" story.

We came home from a pumpkin carving party Halloween weekend, fully expecting to hear Jonas' loud and obnoxious barking from the back yard. But it was dead quiet. My first thought was that he somehow had found a new way to escape the yard. But we went inside, and he came running down the hall toward us, excitedly wagging his tail and offering some shredded stuffed animal in his jowls. Next thought: How in the world did I forget to put him outside before we left? We all know how Jonas is banned from being inside because of the terrible things he does to my furiture. But I distinctly remembered putting him and his dinner out back. Then we saw it - a huge hole in the screen of the back window. We'd left the windows open to get some fresh air into the house while we were out. My dumb dog managed to escape his yard to get INTO the house. Who does that?

Then my third thought - where's Mazzy? Not in the house, of course. So David and I grabbed the flashlight and went out scouring the neighborhood for my little escape artist (I'm sure she put Joe up to tearing the hole in the screen). All I could think about as we searched was how much it would stink to have lost both my cats in a matter of months. But by the time we got back to the house, there she was, outside the window (which was now closed) trying to jump back in through the hole in the screen. Phew.

Jonas spent the next day nursing his paw, which he apparently hurt by shreading a huge hole in a metal screen. We had no sympathy for him. Too bad he probably didn't associate tearing screen=hurt paw. We keep the back windows closed while we're gone now.

Progress Report

Well we've started the house painting project. We're doing the back first so we can perfect our method before painting the more frequently viewed front. Already we've seen improvement in our technique, and it's really starting to look pretty good.





We bought several small cans of different shades of brown paint from Home Depot and painted samples of each on the side of our shed (which we plan to tear down some day). One color was too light, the other too dark, a third too pink. The favorite, however, turned out to be the only one that seemed to require two coats - which means more paint and more expense. I was also nervous at first at how orange it looked when wet. It's called wine barrel - in the photo it's the color on the right and left sides. The far right shows how it looks with just one coat. Now compare that with the wheel barrel in the photo and you can understand why I was concerned.

But after a few hours of drying it toned down to a nice reddish brown, so we took a leap of faith and bought a few buckets of it, along with some black suede for the trim.






Now after two weekends and a few evenings, we have almost finished the entire back side of the house. Here's some before, during and after shots for ya. Rolling is awesome - it gets so much done so quickly. But the way the boards are on our house we have to use a brush to paint the narrow, inset boards. Between that and the trim progress seems slow. I also made the mistake this weekend of walking around the house and seeing how much more house we have to go.





But we'll get there. Especially since we're calling in reinforcements - my parents-in-law - next weekend to help speed things up before the cold weather (and my growing belly) make the work too difficult for me and David to finish.

BEFORE (YCH)

AFTER (YAY!)

Goodbye, mint-chocolate-chip-ice-cream house

I love my house. I knew from the moment I first walked in it during our house hunt that I wanted it. It's a mid-century modern house with a fabulous Great Room, in which the kitchen, living room, dining area and a sun room are all part of one large area. It's very welcoming, and I knew it would be a great room for hosting. David loved it, too. But there were two things about the house that he hated - the tremendously overgrown back yard and the mint-green-with-black-trim paint job on the outside. He disliked these two features so much he almost didn't want to buy the place. I convinced him that these were easily fixable, and that cleared the way for us to close the deal.

As soon as we moved in last summer we started hacking away at the mass of bushes and thorny vines that were choking the outside. That basically doubled the size of our yard. It's now under control, and next spring we may even be able to start landscaping and adding plants we actually want.

This month, it's time to fulfill the other condition of our house purchase. Painting!

There is a watercolor picture of our house hanging in the sun room. It's the architect's rendition of the house from the 50s, and it shows the outside as a plain but attractive brown - obviously it had just been stained, not painted. David and I really like how our house looks in this picture and cannot understand why the woman who had lived here for 40-some years decided mint green was preferable. From what we can tell in places where the paint is peeling she even had it painted mint green several times over the years. So we are definitely set on going back to some shade of brown, which may be tricky, as we'll have to choose a paint that resembles wood tone because staining just isn't an option anymore.

So to help us choose the right color, I turned to Photoshop for help. Here are some possibilities I came up with:

Dark Brown: I don't mind this color, but David thinks it comes off looking cheap.











Cedar: This shade would closely match our wood fence, and currently is our favorite. But is it too matchy-matchy?














Light Cedar: While not our favorite, this color closely resembles the color depicted in the architect's rendition.

We do know we want to go with a dark brown or even black trim. We've researched colors traditionally used on mid-century modern homes, and whenever we found a brown house it had black trim, and we think it looks pretty good - though I don't think it really works on other styles of houses. The other most popular color palette for mid-century moderns involve painting the house white, which is definitely out of the question for us.

This weekend we're going to make a run to Home Depot for some samples, and maybe a few small cans that we can test out on the back of the house. But feel free to cast your vote for your favorite - or tell us these are all awful.

In the end, we may just say forget it - let's just go crazy and really cement our home's reputation as the most garish in the neighborhood.

Everyone, meet Allison

Yes, it is strange that this is the first post I've written on this subject. Most of you, my friends and family, know that I am pregnant. For those of you whom I haven't had the opportunity to tell yet, surprise! I am 19 weeks in - that's 5 months if you don't want to do the math - and yesterday David and I learned that we are having a girl. This came as a complete shock to both of us - we were approximately 98.2% sure it was a boy - sure enough, in fact, that we've been calling my belly Jack for the past few weeks. But we are in no way disappointed. We're very excited and happy, and actually seeing her and knowing that she's a her has made this whole experience more real. I'm pleased to share with all of you one of her first photos in human form.


We have decided to name her Allison Guy Griner. She's about 8 inches long now, and weighs just over half a pound. She has four chambers in her heart, a liver, two kidneys, and two hemispheres in her brain. This week, her brain's figuring out how to use her five senses, and she can apparently already hear my voice. We read somewhere that David should talk to my stomach so she can get used to his voice, too. So, of course, he speaks to her in his best Sean Connery voice. Boy, is she in for a surprise.

In case you're wondering, I'm feeling great. I was somehow very fortunate and did not have morning sickness. I'm past the stage where I'm tired all the time so I have lots of energy to do things like dig a 16-foot trench in the front yard. More on that later.

And I'm finally at a point where my belly's big enough where people can say with confidence, "Oh, you're pregnant!" rather than think quietly to themselves, "Is she pregnant, or is she just letting herself go a little?"

European Vacation: Day 9 - Return to Paris

Our return flight to Paris early the next morning was uneventful, although that day would be the last David would see his bag for another two or three weeks. Our camera was in that bag, which is why I have no photos from the final hours of our trip to share with you.

We enjoyed the best meal of our entire trip on this final evening - a home cooked French Sunday dinner courtesy of Alexia's mother. We drank champagne with our appetizers, a delicious red wine with the main course (a great roast beef), and a sweet wine with dessert. What was really great, though, was getting to spend some time with Alexia's father. I hadn't seen him in nearly 10 years and he was away on a business trip earlier in the week. He came back to Paris while we were in Germany and Prague and was scheduled to leave again a few hours before we returned, but he changed his flight so that he could at least stay and have appetizers with us. It was a short visit but I'm grateful to have had at least a little time with him (and that he and David finally got to meet).

Alexia and her mother shared with us one of their favorite foods - foie gras. It was very good. Neither of them could understand, though, why people refuse to eat it just because of the way the harvested geese are treated. Alexia believes that if they'd just try it, they'd change their minds. She and my friend Dawn would get along great.

During dessert we had a very lively conversation about French politics. Coverage of the candidates in the States had been very limited, and so we got to hear some fun stories of dumb political moves made by Segolene Royal.

Dinner lasted very late, and we had a great time. We had been told David's luggage, which had not made it onto our plane, would be delivered to Alexia's parents' home sometime that night. It never came, so we called and asked that it be mailed directly to our house in Alabama. We then could do nothing but cross our fingers that it would arrive someday.

The next morning we had to say goodbye to Alexia, who had to go to work, and it was very sad to see her go. David and I slept in a little before heading out to a cafe to order pain chocolats and cafe (in French) all by ourselves!

Soon our trip came to an end, and we had to get on the plane for home. Our flight was late leaving from Paris, so when we landed in Newark, NJ, we had to rush to try and catch our connecting flight, which would have left an hour before. In our rush I left a cardboard tube full of Mucha prints in the overhead compartment of the plane. Alas, we would never see them again, despite our efforts over the next few days to get the airline to locate them.

When we got to the check-in counter of the airline that was to fly us to Atlanta, we learned that our flight had NOT left an hour ago - in fact, it didn't even exist. We had flown Air India to and from Paris, and for whatever reason they were unable to issue us electronic tickets. Therefore, they had to mail us paper tickets several weeks before our trip. Sometime between booking and that day standing in the Newark airport the flight number and time had been changed. The new flight had already left (several hours ago - we never would have made it even if our overseas flight had been on time) and we were not even listed as passengers on it. We panicked only a few minutes before the man at the counter assured us that we only needed to go back to Air India and they would fix everything - it was, after all, their fault. We did, and after waiting in a long line along with dozens of very angry fellow passengers, we were given a hotel and meal vouchers and two seats on a flight that was to leave the next morning.

In the end it all worked out for the best. We had been planning on staying in a hotel in Atlanta that night anyway, since we would be arriving around midnight. But as it turned out we got to go to bed earlier and stay in a hotel for free. I would have preferred having David's luggage and my precious Mucha prints, but oh well. Like I said, the luggage was eventually returned to us several weeks later (a tag on it indicated it had been sitting at O'Hare for most of that time), and David happened to know someone who was going to Prague the week after we got back. She was nice enough to mail us some replacement Mucha prints.

And that's it! Thanks for everyone's patience while I took my sweet time blogging about the trip we took way back in May. I'm looking forward to tackling a list of new subjects.

European Vacation: Days 6-8 - Prague

David and I were actually pretty disappointed with Prague. Maybe it was that we had built it up

so much in our minds over the years. But we found it entirely too touristy. I guess we prefer experiencing tastes of local culture when we travel, but Prague was littered with thousands of souvenir shops selling plastic junk and postcards (although some marionette shops were pretty cool - see above) and restaurants and pubs offering authentic American cuisine. Yet we made the most of it and saw as much as we could in the short time we were there.

Prague Castle was first on our list. It is the focal part of the city, centered on a hilltop that you can see from just about any neighborhood. To get there, you have to cross Charles Bridge, which is probably one of the most photographed sites in Prague. It is a long pedestrian bridge that crosses the river and is decorated with a variety of statues, mostly of saints and Jesus. It's difficult to admire the statues during the day, however, with all the tourists and street vendors. But we still enjoyed strolling across it and people-watching.

Outside the castle gates, which were guarded by statues of giants fighting, we stopped to listen to a small group of musicians who were featured in our guidebook. Vitus Cathedral, located on the castle grounds, was definitely the highlight of the tour. It offered your standard cathedral fair, but one stained glass window was designed by Czech artist Alfons Mucha and depicted historical scenes of the Czech Republic. Mucha is one of the most renowned Art Nouveau artists, and the three of us love his work. We probably bought more Mucha prints during our stay than any other type of souvenir.

Also in the cathedral is a very, very tall bell tower. We were warned - a sign at the bottom of the staircase said there were 289 steps. What we didn't expect was that it would be so narrow - and two-way. Claustrophobes, beware. But it was well worth it. At the top was an open-air balcony overlooking the city and offering plenty of scenic views. Plus we got a great photo of the angel Alexia (and some dude).

Prague castle itself was not all that exciting. Very minimalist, and if you're interested in knowing more about it than that I'll loan you our guidebook. St. George Basilica, located next to the castle, was sad to see just because it looked like it used to have beautiful murals on its ceilings but they were not well-preserved over the years. However, it did have an impressive (and unlabeled) shrine to someone, whose bones I suppose were the ones displayed in the glass case.

Lastly was Golden Lane - a narrow street of very small, overpriced souvenir shops that had apparently been built when humans only grew to be about 4 feet tall. We poked our heads into a few stores but then made our way to a tower where prisoners were regularly tortured. A lot of interesting devices were on display, so of course David and I were fascinated. Alexia refused to venture inside, however, stating that she "did not like torture."

The next day was Museum Day. We of course made our way first to the Mucha Museum. It was small but very nice as well as informative. The gift shop was disappointingly sparse, but fortunately a ton of souvenir shops carried copies of his prints. Afterward we enjoyed a coffee break at Cafe Emporio - a very eclectic little cafe with broken egg shells decorating one wall.

Next was the museum of Communism. The Czech Republic was under Communist rule until only about 20 years ago when the Velvet Revolution took place, and it was interesting to learn what life was like. Propaganda portrayed Americans as evil oppressors.

We wrapped up our museum tour in the Jewish Quarter, which featured several synagogues and a cemetery. In the cemetery, people were buried on top of one another because of limited space, which is why the headstones were so crammed together. It was a very solemn and impressive area. Here and there we came across walls where people left tiny scraps of paper with prayers written on them in the nooks and crannies.

Our last full day in Prague was spent just wandering. We had exhausted all the tourist traps and now just wanted an agenda-free day. We decided to explore the Little Quarter, where we had spent the least amount of our time. We found a Royal Garden that was really pretty. It boasted Greek-influenced statuary, a hedge maze, fountains, and free roaming peacocks (which, under no circumstances, can you walk on the grass to take pictures of, as the nice man in the photo was coming to tell me). A wall that bordered the garden was made up completely of stalactites and stalagmites, like you'd see in a cave. Next to the wall was a large penned-in section that housed several enormous owls. I had no idea they could get that big.

Alexia had the brilliant idea next to get ice cream. It was a perfect day for it - sunny and warm. Nearby the ice cream shop we discovered a little bookstore, where I picked up a book of Czech fairy tales for a friend and a novel about the Golem legend. We wound our way back to the neighborhood near our hotel and stopped to view the Lennon wall - a graffitied wall dedicated to John Lennon. Our tour book said the government used to paint over it repeatedly when it first appeared but eventually gave up when they realized people were not going to stop decorating it.

We ate lunch on a patio of a nearby restaurant, where we sat next to a fat kid playing a handheld video game. Glad to see he was enjoying his cultural experience. David and I each ordered a personal pizza - which ended up being way too much food. David, being the good guy he is, decided to give our leftovers to a young homeless man with a dog and very shaky hands. He showed no reluctance to accept it.

It was time for a beer by then, so we found an outdoor bar on Wenceslas Square (site of the Velvet Revolution). Entertainment here was provided by a young group of British men apparently "on the stag." This is a sort of tradition in Britain - a party weekend in Prague similar to a bachelor party. The star of this group was a rather unattractive gentleman wearing nothing but Mr. Fantastic underwear. He was either very comfortable or very drunk because he did not seem at all ill at ease.

For our last dinner in town, David made reservations at a very cool vegetarian restaurant called Clear Head. The tables were decorated with glass beads and illuminated with a blue light. We had a bottle of Moravian wine, which was delicious. I enjoyed a dish made of potatoes au gratin covered in spinach and goat cheese. Alexia had some kind of veggie burrito, and David got a mushroom pasta. It was all very, very good.

During our visit we ate at two other restaurants worthy of note: Klub Architecture and Original Needle House. Klub Architecture (where the cool picture at left of Alexia was taken) I'd definitely recommend as a must if you go to Prague. But get a reservation. We did not have one, yet they were still able to seat us because we arrived early in the evening. But we were only allowed 45 minutes to eat and then get out. The ambiance was awesome - like eating in a very chic wine cellar. The food was even better. Thanks to Mike Gruss for recommending! Original Needle House we came across by accident while looking for a good place to eat. Their specialty was very generous shishkabobs (below). It didn't take us long to learn about a cultural phenomenon in regards to Czech dining. The wait staff does not take it upon themselves to check on you to see if you need anything - a napkin, a drink refill, your check, etc. You pretty much have to flag them down or get up and ask them for whatever it is you may need. We toyed with the idea of never hailing a waiter at Original Needle House, just to see if they'd turn off the lights and go home without ever bringing us our bill.

That, my friends, was Prague. One entry left - our last day in Paris.

European Vacation: Day 5 - Evil Czech Cops

We were a little nervous about the train journey to Prague - our itinerary called for us to switch trains about five or six times, and sometimes we were only going to have a minute or two to get on board. Turned out to not be as bad as we expected. In most cases, our connecting train was right next to the one we had just gotten off of, and all the other passengers were also getting on that same train. We only had to run at one station, and we did cut it pretty close.

The most interesting part of the trip was on one train in the Czech Republic. The three of us were just sitting, reading quietly, not expecting to get off the train for another hour. An old man seated near us made a whistling noise to get our attention, then gestured for us to get off. The train stopped, and everyone got off and started walking down a gravel road that ran parallel to the tracks. This was it, we thought. We're going to die. Instead, we all got onto a bus, which drove through a nearby town. The whole ride we couldn't help but wonder 1) why were we suddenly forced to get off the train and onto a bus, 2) where were we going? 3) were we still on our way to Prague? and 4) if we were not, how the heck were we going to get there now? Communicating with whistling and gestures can only get you so far in a foreign country where we couldn't speak or understand a word of the language. Even when we tried to say the word for "thank you" we were getting funny looks, like maybe our slang book, written circa 1972 (ie in the middle of the Czech Communist era), was actually telling us to say something like "thanks, Commie!" Eventually, however, we pulled up at another train station, followed our fellow passengers to another train, and got on. We never knew the reason for this odd little detour.

Finally, we arrived in Prague. But our excitement was short-lived. At the train station, we struggled to understand how to buy tickets for the subway. We took our best guess at what type of tickets we needed, then headed toward the entrance. We found no turnstiles like you would in ordinary subway stations. There was a small, unobtrusive machine on a wall near the entrance. Alexia asked if we thought that's what we used to validate our tickets. I foolishly said it couldn't possibly be - that there must be a turnstile up ahead. There wasn't. We got on the subway, thinking maybe we turned in our tickets when we exited. Wrong. As soon as we got off at our destination, David and I were stopped by a man in uniform. Alexia, with her experience of constantly being approached by peddlers within the Metro in Paris, casually kept on walking, thinking this man simply wanted to sell us a watch. Instead, the man told us we should have validated our tickets in the mystery machine near the entrance. He showed us instructions printed on the wall of the subway, and I thought, what a nice man. Giving us a lesson on how to use this system. Then he said we needed to pay him 1,000 koruna. What?!?! Fortunately, we had just withdrawn some cash, which probably saved us from going to jail, but unfortunately we had NO CLUE how much 1,000 koruna was in dollars. Were we to hand over to this man all of our spending money for the next week?

I had remembered reading something in our guidebook about being approached by men on the street demanding that we pay some ridiculous fine. Remembering that, I suddenly wasn't so sure that this guy was actually a cop. I mean, who in the world would fine a foreign tourist who had literally just arrived in town for failing to comprehend a ludicrously complicated subway system? So I took the advice of the guide book and stopped a passerby to ask if this truly was a fine-able offense. He said yes, and a quite common one. I then ordered the "cop" to show me his badge. He did, and it matched up with one pictured along with the instructions on the wall. Well fine, I told him I'd pay the fine, but that I was not about to pull out my money while within his sight. I told him I was going to go stand behind a nearby pillar to retrieve my cash. I was taking a great risk that this man would haul my husband off to some dark Czech prison while I wasn't looking, but hey, I still wasn't convinced he wasn't a scam artist who would tell his buddies outside where to find my cash-laden wallet. Finding David still standing there when I returned, I grudgingly handed over my cash, demanded a signed receipt so that we wouldn't get fined by the next "cop" we ran into, and we were free to go. Poor Alexia! During the whole ordeal, she was standing alone and confused at the top of the escalator, wondering whether her friends were lost or simply too stupid to not buy a watch from a street peddler.

We later learned that 1,000 koruna equals about $40, so it wasn't as expensive as we'd thought. Had we been a native, the fine would have been double. Still, a cab would have been cheaper - and more pleasant.

A note about the photo above: It's the only picture we took of that dreadful subway station. Pretty, but deceiving.

Reunited, the three of us found our way out of the evil subway station and stumbled our way around until we eventually found our hotel. Our first impression of Prague was not pretty, and the rest of the day we tried our best to ignore the sour mood our subway experience left us in.