Embracing the Quirkiness

First of all, another Happy Birthday shoutout to Chris. This has nothing to do with the "quirkiness" theme today!

My lunch group likes to try and fit a dozen or so of us around a table meant for maybe 6 or 8. This drives me crazy. There are two tables in the room adjacent to each other with adequate chairs at each table. I do not feel it necessary to be squeezed in around a table for the sake of having everyone eat at the same table. I am usually one of the first ones to arrive and find myself shifting and rearranging 2 or 3 times to accommodate everyone at the same table.

I think the others feel that everyone should feel welcome to sit together and all should be included in each conversation. Not a bad theory ... until I am not comfortable at my seat for my lunch with 3 different conversations running across a 6 foot diagonal. We've tried pushing tables together. Two circle tables do not fit all that well together and it still means moving and shuffling. It's not the break from the day that I look forward to.

On days when I arrive late and set myself up at the other table, I cannot make them understand that I'm OK with that. I will sit with my own little group holding our own discussions to save the world. It's OK, really. But not for them.

Which brings me to yesterday when I arrived late at a meeting and tried to sit at a separate table and not squeezed in at the table with the rest of the group. I want to shout: "It's OK! I feel no discomfort sitting over here. In fact, I prefer some space." More fuss was created by them trying to get me to change my mind interrupting the meeting.

I had been thinking that people feel they need to group together to fulfill some kind of need to belong. Kind of like those people that feel they need to seat themselves in the movie theater right in front of you when the theater is all but empty and you are no where near front and center. Or park next to your car in an empty parking lot. Well you get the idea.

But, it occured to me yesterday when the whole lunchtime scene replayed at this other meeting with completely different people that it must be ME that's the problem here. I know, hard to believe. Upon some reflection I think this is just one of my little quirks. I would rather sacrifice some sociability for physical comfort. Most people apparently would rather be social than comfortable. It might surprise you to learn I have just a few other little low level quirks as well.

Which got me remembering (see how my mind works?) how Dad would just stand in the kitchen eating instead of sitting at the table. I hated that. I felt like he just wanted to draw attention to himself and be different for no purpose. I wonder if that's how my behavior appears to others? I am sure Dad had his own reasons just as I do. Now you have the benefit of my sharing it with you all when he never did.

It's a quirk. I have others! I don't really like sand on the beach. I love the sun and sound but not the sand. Hate the sand. I don't like large cups for drinks. Almost can't drink from a large cup. All that liquid --too overwhelming. Quirkiness. Hate the skin on pudding. Don't really like getting my feet wet in the grass going outside with sandals on.

But somehow I could put myself in one of those harnesses and hook myself to the back of a speedboat for parasailing. Walking across the high bridge along the beams underneath. The other side of negative quirks are quirks like these. Or do they call these something else--like reckless? No, reckless is trying to sit at the other table in lunch.

Care to share your quirks or thoughts? C'mon--I've put myself out there. Your turn!

Moore Food for thought

Catchy title don't you think? I am done being creative. Check out the recipie Mom wrote in the "Ryan Family" cookbook that I got for my wedding shower.

Just so that you are aware, if you put multiple pictures on a post, attach them in reverse order.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday this week to Chris! Isn't it kind of nice to know you are over that hill and now you and I can help push Kathy over it next? I guess I kind of still think of us all as kids so it's hard to put that image together with us getting to be 50+.

Mom was the age I am now when I got married. And I'll tell you I'm not ready for that!! Especially when I look at wedding pictures and see her dressed in what I now consider to be "old lady" style clothes (I didn't think so then). I do agree that it seems the conception of age has changed somewhat, probably because of all us baby boomers coming through. On the other hand, Nanny was 50 when Paula was born and when I see pictures, it is hard to imagine. Enough perspective for one blog, right?

Speaking of such, the blog is now a year old! Thank you for contributing, reading and reacting. Let's all keep it up.

Food for thought

It's November, so naturally my thoughts turn to FOOD! I was planning to share the homemade lemon sherbet recipe. I remember that being such a treat--it was so good! I recall the metal loaf pan that Mom would put the sherbet into and the little bits of lemon rind giving the sherbet a slight bitter taste to offset some of the sweet. I am pretty sure it was the same metal loaf pan Mom used for meatloaf. How could that wonderful sherbet come from the same pan as that meatloaf??

So, I went looking for the recipe. I have Mom's 1950 Betty Crocker Cookbook, her handwritten cookbook and her recipe box. Talk about misplaced heirlooms. These should be with someone who cooks and might use a recipe the way I use phone numbers to make dinner.

But I discovered tonight that these do have significant family historical value. Here you see a scan I made of a cookie recipe from Mom's handwritten cookbook that notes it was from Nanny Ryan in 1963. I don't ever remember these particular cookies but I find it fascinating that it comes from Nanny Ryan, whom I know was a good cook.

There are recipes in Mom's handwriting, Nanny's, Kathy's, mine, Dad's and a couple others I am not certain of. Most are handwritten or typed. Very few are clipped from magazines or newspapers (most of mine are). The lemon sherbet is typed out on an index card and has obviously been pulled out many many times. It is too badly stained to scan and place up on this blog for you.

There are a couple of things I remember in particular: lemon sauce for gingerbread and the famous chicken barbeque sauce/marinade. The original recipes are here and my versions of these lack several of the ingredients from the original!! I guess it's evidence of recipe evolution.

It occurs to me that it would be fun to have everyone grab a couple of these and try them out. Then we could have some kind of buffet. Maybe we could do something with them for the Ryan Christmas celebration. What do you think?

I do not check this blog often, but am always amazed when I do. Patty Anne, the work you do on the geneology is great. Thanks for everything that you do.

We are in-between seasons (unless you count hunting as a season!) right now. Ryan went to his first homecoming dance with a girl. They seemed to have a good time. (as far as I can tell - it is very difficult for Mom to get any information from a teenage boy) He will be playing basketball and is loving the high school. Matthew has just started basketball practices and is elated to be back with his favorite buddies (Joe, Jeff and Cam). He has matured a lot this year and is taking his studies very seriously. I do tell them both how proud I am of them, but thank you for the reminder.

I think that we should start looking at dates for Christmas as I know that everyone's calendars fill up quickly. I think that it is my turn to host this year. How about Saturday the 3rd or the 10th? Look it up and let me know.

Here's to Nanny

Nanny Flynn was born 98 years ago today in Salamanca into a family with 3 girls and a boy to welcome her as a sibling. William Howard Taft had been President for a little over a year. There were probably Lincoln Logs and Tinker Toys in the house for the children. Comics in the newspaper were a relatively new addition to daily reading. States were beginning to adopt speed limits due to the increasing presence and popularity of the automobile (20 MPH!). Bobbed hair and large hats were often seen. Radios brought music like jazz and ragtime into the living room. Nanny's parents Henry and Caroline probably went ballroom dancing for entertainment. Generally it was an era of hopefulness in the United States. World War I and Prohibition were right around the corner and certainly must have affected her life at home.

This is a picture of Nanny in her Halloween costume with another child (not a sibling). This costume is a little spooky looking to me but that's from a view almost 100 years later and not a contemporary one. I think this costume shows a great deal of care and preparation--much more than I was ever able to drum up for Halloween!. Happy Halloween to all. Get those pumpkins painted!

So proud you could cry

So here's what I'm thinking about today. Twice today, people mentioned things Ryan had done recently that are the kinds of things that really make a parent proud. All day long I smiled to myself because I am so proud of him and the adult he seems to be growing into (actually it was closer to "teary eyed" than to smiling, but who's counting?).

There aren't many other parental moments that rise to the level of pride in our children over the behaviors they exhibit, especially when they have no way to expect we would find out. Of course, in some ways, it's all about us right? And our parenting? Mostly our doubts about how we are doing with that job as time goes by. Then we get validated by learning our child has made us proud. And we smile (or wipe tears away) for the rest of the day.

In this case, these were little things --as they often are. Little gestures or responses that can easily go unnoticed and often go undetected by mom-radar. Which made me think about my parents and their parents and so on. Was there anything I did that made Mom feel the way I do today? I don't recall that she ever mentioned such a thing but I suppose there had to be at least SOMETHING. Maybe when I was about 6 or so! I think I'd like to know. Especially because it's usually those little everyday things that define our relationships in this world and make such a difference with those looming life-defining moments we all face eventually.

So, I'm going to make a point to tell Ryan tonight that I am so proud to be his mom. I hope you will do the same with someone you love in the near future. Maybe they will remember it and understand a little better what makes them the people they become.