Messy Kitchen

My kitchen is always messy.  Always in use.  Always in flux.  I try not to mind.  Actually, I don't mind.

And just so you know, princesses make messes, super heroes make messes.  There, that's settled.

Understand, today we moved from a late breakfast to a mid-1 pm  lunch.  (Note: we will soon move into prep for  a 7 pm dinner.  We love food.)   But for the mid-afternoon moment, Annie and I were in the throes of cooking... with 100 degrees outside.   We weren't even certain what we were going to make.  The best kind of moments, minus the 100 degrees outside part.)

I put to boil some various shaped pasta noodles (we used what we call "hugamuga" i.e.:  "the bottom of the box.")   That was when the fun (and yes, another mess) ensued.

Andee's Mix:

1 cup cooked pasta, we used hugamuga :) (see above)
1 teaspoon butter  (or more)
2 teaspoons olive oil
salt to taste (we used soma salt from India)
pepper a couple good twists of medium grind
1/4 cup grated parmesan (used two different varieties- another hugamuga:)
fresh chives

Boil pasta to al dente.  Drain.  Place back in pot. Add butter and olive oil to pasta.
Then throw it all in and stir!  It's fabulous!!!!  (You could add some thin peels of sauteed zucchini or other?)


Always a mess.  See?

Cirque du 19!

Our version of a circus includes a small Big Top (tiny, in fact,) watermelon pink colors,  house squeezed strawberry lemonade, strawberry shortcake, a hula hoop and a baby elephant (see below;)

Yesterday, was my BELOVED Annie's, 19th birthday.  Home from college for the day with her big brother, we took every advantage of the 6 hours with them.  My husband and I, once again, found ourselves asking them the perennial question, "Ummm, how is that possible? Weren't you guys, like, three?  Last week?"  Maybe that's why we got into the whole circus tent theme.  It started out as a "ha-hah... wouldn't it be cool to make a circus tent for Annie's birthday table...ha-hah."  Until, my husband realized I was kind of serious. (He IS an engineer, afterall.)   So that very day "we" humorously concocted a tent from dowel sticks,  tiny nails, jute, a slab of plywood and an old muslin sheet, oh, and some red paint. (Yeah ok, we have too much time on our hands.)

But...truth is,  mini circus tent construction was a hoot.  First "we" built the frame: slab, dowels, nails, jute.  Then the hoot stalled for a bit when "we" came to the Big Top, and a lesson in Conics ensued.  My frustrations with math hopped to the foreground, long stuffed down into a dark canyon inside my middle school brain somewhere.  After a while though, the hoot came back as we hoisted a canvas top over the frame.  Hurrah. 

  

Then yesterday, we stuffed our snappy tabletop tent with small gifts for Annie, and stuffed the kids with a good home-cooked birthday meal.  So why did we choose a circus theme?  Ah,  that be Annie.  She has long dreamed of joining Cirque du Soliel.  Running away to the circus.  Maybe someday.  But for now she has her own miniature Big Top. And a baby elephant.   

How-to-make-cake-flour...

...in a snap!

I had not idea how snappy simple it is to make cake flour... until I was making Annie's 19th birthday cake. This year the tabletop theme is a cirque du 19,  because apparently cirque du soleil performer is one of Annie's fantasy careers.  Her request this year was a strawberry short cake.  The angel food cake recipe called for cake flour, of which I had none. So I did a simple google search and presto-chango:

For every cup of flour, remove 2 Tablespoons of flour and replace with 2 Tablespoons of corn starch. Then sift it all together.  I was able to modify to 100% organic by using organic flour and organic corn starch. Thank you food.com. That simple!

Sprinkling the seeds....

Everywhere that Princess Daffodil walks, flowers bloom behind her.  So it goes in  The Magic Hill  by A. A. Milne, (gorgeously illustrated by Isabel Bodor Brown.)

Perhaps like Princess Daffodil, flowers bloom behind us all... only they're not the sort of flowers that are visible to the eye.

This spring, carry wildflower seeds in your pockets to sprinkle here and there while walking the urban trails.  You'll make the world a bit more colorful.

Are super heroes and heroes the same?

Are "super heroes" and "heroes" really that different from one another?

Aside from the cape, or the tights, masks and emblems, I think they might, just might, be very close relatives. And perhaps children, quite effortlessly, know this.

In my latest picture book Do Super Heroes Have Teddy Bears? (May 2012,) a little boy and his sister don capes to play outdoors in the mud. They save-the-day, escape the perils of a raining afternoon, conquer their vegetables, all the while striking their own unique pose. Yet might these small playful acts of "pretending" to be a super hero, be the precursor for real heroism one day? Perhaps, their makeshift capes allow them to try heroism on, for size. So that one day they might recognize a need when it faces them on the fly.

And so...  the lines between the two, blur.

Sunny and mild...

We LaVigna-Coyle girls know our limitations in the weather department. Brrr is a four-letter word in our vocab. (Sometimes even six, seven or eight!) Neither one of us is fond of getting a chill. Simply put, life isn't as much fun when we are cold. Hence, we always carry provisions. And this explains why our luggage is always bulging. Sweaters, scarves, hats, coats WITH hoods, and warm wooly socks. You get the idea. We are wimps.

Do Princesses Surf? (You better believe it! But in a wet suit.)

It might very well be sunny and 65 on the beach in Santa Barbara CA (February 2012.) But that doesn't stop Annie and I from wearing puffy down, putting up the hood, and stuffing our feet into boots. The only real explanation is: humidity. Throw a few extra percents in there, mix it up with a cold sea, and fairly brisk breeze... and you have the ingredients for:

The Truth On Snow...

The Truth On Snow...

White.  Bright.  Frozen.  Powdery.  Dry.  Light.  Wet.  Slick.  Heavy.  

Slushy.  Clumpy.  Brazen.  Trudged through.  Played on.  Slid down.

A combination of many.  Macro/micro.  Without borders.  

Without boundaries.  

Is.  Was.  Will be. 

Thus... a little back story.  Some time ago, while on a walk through a nearby wildlife preserve, I saw a stick in the shape of a "T."  I had to circle back for it because at the time, I didn't know I was looking for a stick in the shape of a "T" until I passed it.   Playfully,  I set out to find more sticks shaped in the letters of the word "truth."  But "truth" took a while to find.  The rules: it had to be found on the ground, no breaking or trimming allowed and no constant searching. 

So now starts my little series:  The Truth On...   

Super sonic traveling author

On March 7, I'll be visiting classrooms in Ontario, Texas, Ohio and Oklahoma!

All in the same morning! You ask, how is that possible? Is she teleporting? Is she space porting? Did she get a new pair of running shoes?

Nope... just Skype and World Read Aloud Day (WRAD) AND a triple espresso. Actually could I make that a 16 ounce drinking chocolate, please? With whip. And chocolate shavings. Who am I kidding. I'll be hyped enough. Make mine a camomile tea.

I'll be comfy in my little studio next to a wall of glass. It's going to be fun! I might even wear slippers. Many nice schools contacted me to participate in this fabulous event made possible by author Kate Messner and Lit World .

It's designed for outreach, hopefully inspiring children all over the world to read. Isn't that cool? I'll read a couple books, maybe even share a few silly true stories. For sure I'll have to show all the kids my dog Lulu.  And my desk and studio... oh gosh, I better clean.

Hello... Hellllooooooo... helloooooo

Updates... updates... and please DO NOT look at the last date I posted.

Oh, there you go.  Well now you know.

As with most folks, I'm sure much has happened since March 2 2011.  (6 months and 17 days ago.)
25th anniversaries, high school graduations/parties, 22nd birthdays... and some sad and scary stuff too.

Probably biggest on the list of "happenings" in my little world has been my daughter, Annie, leaving for college.  Yeah, you can play the violin if you want.  I do everyday. Itunes.

Gosh, it's quiet around here.  (Aside from those violins.)  No volleyballs slamming around the staircase. No dubstep marching through the hallway.

I talk to myself more often.  And NO, I'm not wearing a headset.  It's regular,  the real-deal talking to myself.  I even answer.

Me:  Hmmmm, what should I make for lunch today?
me:   Cocoa?
Me:  Nah, it's not cold enough yet.
me:   Ok, then how about frozen hot chocolate?
Me:  With whip cream on top?
me:   You bet!
Me:   Oh... I think I'll just have steamed veggies instead.
me:   Dork.
Me:  Dork.
 

Hello  hellllloooooo hellllllllllooooooooo.  No, reply.  

Except with all the "hellooo-ing," the dog thinks someone has just come home, so she's running around the island looking for her peeps.  Lulu,  daddy won't be home 'til 7! 

But don't get me wrong,  I've been busy.  Yes-sir-re. 

My website is being designed by xuni.com --  specializing in author/writer web development.  Trumpets, please.  www.carmelalavignacoyle.com.   It will 'go live' in January 2012.  "Go live." That sounds so newsy.   "Let's Go Live to Carmela's kitchen, where she's making... what's that?  Steamed veggies?  Huh, that sure looks a lot like hot chocolate. "

And I've been writing like crazy.  Picture book stories, a young reader series and revising existing mss.

I also have another book coming out 2012.  DO SUPERHEROES HAVE TEDDY BEARS?  Illustrated by the marvelous Mike Gordon.  Hold on to your capes!  

Me: You're gonna love it!

me:  Hope so.

Me: Whatdaya mean, you wrote it! 

me:  No, YOU wrote. 

Me: Oh yeah... 

:O)

a gift to myself...

As Bizet's triumphant Carmen Suite blasts my airwaves this morning, I give the gift of acknowledgment to all my stories patiently hanging out in their little cyber files:

Tumbleweeeed; Merripoo; AfTeR eVeR hApPiLy;

Old Conch; This Morning; A Highly Perfect Island;

Warm Wooly; Do Superheroes Have Teddy Bears?;

The Christmas Wind; All Things Joey;

Am I Beautiful?; Tootle-loo Aunt Tallulah; Bubblehearts;

The Hugging Wall; I ♥ You More Than Chocolate;

Ummmm; The Kings Diamond; Snow Elephant;

The Pink Ruby; Hinkle Hausen Snickerdoodts the Elf/Spy;
dog@wooof.net; The Tumbleweed Came Back... 

To Patricia Polacco's miracle! In the early 1980's, Patricia (age 40,) and her mother, walked from NY publisher to NY publisher in attempts to sell her first children's stories. She signed contracts on ALL seven works during that trip. Now with over 70 books in her repertoire, she continues to write and paint poignantly and prolifically.

Nothing is impossible!

19 days until SPRING!!!

We did it! After several Arctic blasts, we're finally at the doorstep of the month that contains Spring!! (And my birthday:O)

My dog became a ferocious wild animal today all because of a 'venti' size bagel she had found out back. She actually had the nerve to growl venomously at me, stiffen her tail and arch her back (yes, like a cat) when I got too close. Geesh... isn't this the same puppy that demands to be my daily lap dog, that kisses my ankles as I walk by, and waits for me on the stairs when I'm out late? Yes.

When I appoached her in the side yard, the bagel was semi-buried, she was hunched over it like a wolf standing over it's kill, teeth bared, and her brown eyes looking menacingly at me. What? She growled again, only this time she yapped. All this for a dead bagel! I think it was cranberry.

After several failed attempts (and newly invented games) to steal the bagel, I managed to distract her with my clever ploy, "Wannatreat??" (Works from me too, I drop my bagel every time.) She ran inside to the treat cabinet. I scooped up the soggy, sludgy, swollen mess and dumped it in the trash... and, of course, gave Lulu her peanut butter flavored doggie treat.

Then I had a piece of chocolate.

And then there were none??? Princesses, that is.

Really? Disney’s princess product line has reached over 26,000 items? Costumes, pj's, lamps, bedding, notebooks, clothing, jewelry, shoes, hairbands, bubblebath, toothbrushes...eek!

A multibillion-dollar business is toying with the developmental vulnerability of our young girls. That’s what author, Peggy Orenstein, has uncovered in her new book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter. Her fascinating, smart book high-heels its way into and through the psychological reasoning behind our contemporary princess phenomena, beckoning parents to join her in staging a coup.

“Just-say-no to the fancy princess props, the hype, the manipulation,” counters my parental mind, but then again, this same mind also knows it’s personally involved in the biz. I have several (not-your-average) princess books on the market.

My four-year-old daughter, Annie, the inspiration behind my work, will be turning eighteen in three months. Albeit, there’s a whole new genre of social challenges facing our older girls, to-princess or not-to-princess seems rather mild at this point, but that’s another blog altogether.

Last night through the aid of home videos, we traveled back to Annie’s third birthday. Her gloriously chunky legs expertly commandeered her new blue trike. She coyly snickered as she intentionally blurted something buzz-worthy, just to get our reaction. At four, five, six, she was precocious, endearing, sly, adorable, rebellious, sweet, witty, and dressed in pink, with a sparkly purple tiara askew on her head.

Tread lightly. Being careful not to shame our pink, purple, and tiara-loving girls into submission is equally important. As parents, we could pull back the reigns in carefully diplomatic ways, couldn’t we? Perhaps parents could delay when their daughters are allowed to watch Disney princess movies until they are a little older, (or dare I say,) if at all? The deeply archetypal impulse behind princess play has developmental merit, especially if left to its more gentle and innocent unfoldment.

And yes, there are substitutes in this big wide world of full-on princess products that support our girls yearning for self-discovery. Most parents, by now, know that parenting a princess is not about the outfits or the perfectly coiffured hair... right? It’s about perception, moderation, and being okay with saying NO when things “feel” not quite right, not to mention, over-the-top.

A magical walk through the “kingdom,” suddenly becomes a lesson about nature. She might even find a pretend castle tucked away in the backyard bushes. We can offer proof to our girls that pink is the color of raspberry lemonade and cherry blossoms, flamingos and a fiery sunset. Reading alternative princess books to our children, or telling empowering stories about fearless, emboldened girls will strengthen their wants for adventure. They’ll soon discover that “princesses” can climb trees, play in the mud and wear pink or green, or black, if they so please.

Throughout the short video clips of my daughter’s little years, the one true thing that jumped out was not her princess trappings, but rather her self-confidence. (She knows what it’s like to get back up after falling on the ice again and again.) No matter how often an industry deploys its glittery wrappings and products into the marketplace, confidence is a commodity that simply cannot be packaged. And isn’t that cool...

My, there go the minutes, once again

Zoooom. One day she's plopping a tiara on her head and jazzing up an Easter dress with a sash. And the next she's going to Prom (2010.)

What's that you say, Tevye?

With a blink of the eye... (and I'm not being dramatic!#$%*^%) a sunset here, a sunrise there-- my Annie has grown.

We laughed aloud (albeit through my tears) when we noticed the striking similarities of these two dresses chosen 12 years apart.

Still likes pink!

pumpkin thieves bomb my dog...

I know, I know... I write children's books, so it's a given that I'm always on the look-out for interesting story material. That said, I do tend to attract cutesy and sometimes odd happenings to my day. But what happened today was right up there with when I was standing in Kansas, and it started raining frogs.
Ok... so I already know you guys aren't going to believe me because... well, because I don't have a youtube to back up my claims. It happened so fast... (Riiight... that's what they ALL say.) And plus, I just talked about raining frogs.

First a little background: Lulu, the dog, thinks our furry squirrel friends are deli meat. She is ALWAYS chasing them back into the trees, challenging their speed, upsetting their apple carts every chance she can get.

Today, as I was watching the little shi-poo patrol the back yard, (here it comes,) suddenly pie pumpkins started plummeting from the sky down toward Lulu. One missed her by a foot... 3 dropping nearly simultaneously from the maple tree around her. Splat. Splat. Splat. I looked up and saw three squirrels. (Maybe those were smiles on their faces? I don't know.) Was this revenge on the puppy dog day?

Anyway, they cleaned up the mess too, so I can't even prove that. EXCEPT that my husband knows that I recently put all the pumpkins out on the patio table. Oh yeah, and the squirrels are significantly fatter.

Carmel-a-Corn

Autumn is for caramel corn as summer is for_____________(fill in the blank.) You will be graded on uniqueness. :O)

Here's my problem. Consumption quantity. I can't stop at just one handful of my not-so-secret recipe of caramel corn. Is it the organic popping corn? Or the healthier sweetners? (Don't kid yourself like I kid myself-- it's still sugar.) Or maybe it's the crunchy-crispness? Or all of the above?

Carmel-a-Corn (revised from Creme de Colorado)

8 quarts freshly popped organic popcorn (not air popped!)

1 cup unsalted organic butter

1 -1/2 cups organic dark brown sugar

1/2 cup Rapadura sugar

1/4 cup organic corn syrup

1/4 cup water

1/2 teas salt (plus a little)

1 teas baking soda

Pop corn and pour in large roaster pan.

Preheat over to 250.

In a medium saucepan melt butter. Add sugars, corn syrup, water and salt. Whisk. Bring to a simmer, whisking occasionally. Watch carefully while it gently simmers for 5 min. Remove from heat. Add baking soda. Stir quickly but thoroughly (It will rise!)

Pour over popcorn. Gently fold until popcorn is coated. Divide corn into two parts. Evenly distribute on two baking sheets. Place in oven on lower and middle rack. Bake for 40 minutes stirring occasionally.

Gourdgeous!

Smile... Say Cheese! Click!

Here... the latest addition to my art collection.

Gourds by Beaa... a sweet gardener in Colorado who grows families of gourds each year. She harvests, scrubs, dries, then hand paints, and varnishes them into life.

Happy Charlie Brown Monday...

A small cottonwood branch zig-zagged to the ground a few hours before I found it. Its school bus yellow leaves caught my eye as I walked near. "Mine," I thought, sounding a lot like my toddlers once did. I scooped it up, and finished the rest of my exercise walk with it flanking my right, rustling front to back with each step.

I made plans for it... I would plunk its super yellowness into a wood vase and put it on the dining table. And then, I'd make a Italian canneloni soup with crusty French bread for dinner. Then light some candles and call it "Autumn!"

But, and here's the Charlie Brown part, by the time "we" got back home, there was only one lonesome leaf left on the branch. Too much exercise for the little guy, I guess.

Of course... my plans will stay the same. The soup, the crusty bread, the candles... and my mono-leafed branch looking awfully cute inside that wood vase. Thanks Charlie...

Common threads: Do Princesses Really Kiss Frogs? and President Barack Obama's, Of Thee I Sing: A Letter to My Daughters.

Of Thee I Sing: A Letter to My Daughters, written by President Barack Obama, and playfully illustrated by Loren Long will be in book stores Nov 16. (Right around when my latest

Do Princesses Have Best Friends Forever? illustrated by the fabulous Mike Gordon, hits the shelves!)

Whooosh... should be a whirlwind in the bookstores. My little princess book will be in "brisk sales" company.

I am intrigued by President Obama's content premise in Of Thee I Sing...: a father sees the admirable traits of thirteen heroic Americans in his own children.

Sigh... what a lovely thing. Seeing heros within our very own is something we all can do. Our children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews have within them the parts and particles of greatness. Big and small greatness. Tall and short. Their very own unique greatness. Every notch on the scale counts.

I am reminded of the punch line in my humble little book Do Princesses Really Kiss Frogs? as the princess stands before an ever-expanding vista on the final pages.

A rainbow... and all-possibilities surround her:

Princess: Oh Daddy... look at the view!

Daddy: There's something about it that reminds me of you...

To read an editorial review of President Obama's tender new book on Amazon visit: Of Thee I Sing: A Letter To my Daughters.

Off to college. Setting the table for three.

Today Nick is leaving for his third year of college. I stand nearby snapping funny pictures. Wait, what's that weighted feeling in my heart? It's uncomfortably familiar. Smile... snap... say cheese...snap. Mike photo bombs yet another photo...laugh...snap. I snicker as I simultaneously stuff the lump back down into my throat... for later.

Our little family of four is changing back to three, yet again. Bittersweet. Double-edge sword. I'm so SO happy, elated, for my son to move forward into his own wonderful life! It is quintessentially satisfying. And yet...

Tick-tock... tick-tock...tick......

Now that it's later... I'm blubbering over my keypad-- (hopefully salt water doesn't damage Apples.) The house is quiet. (Unless you count the sobbing.) Crickets are squeaking outside. The sky is lobelia blue. Nick has left. And everyone else has gone for the day. Except for Lulu. She is slumped at my feet-- saddened that her walking buddy has gone away. Hey, me too! Earlier, she nervously watched and sniffed every duffle, cardboard box, bedding, clothes, camera equipment, as they went out the door. Me? I watched too, alongside the dog, only I refrained from OCD jumping up 'n down and panting nervously as the last of his stuff got lugged out.

I wanted to though.

Third time is a charm. Phhhffff. Are you kidding me? It does get easier, true, but it's still NOT exactly charming. And okay O-K-A-Y... so Nick's only 45 minutes away in Boulder. I already know I'm a whimp, so no need to rub it in!! (Still friends?) It is what it is. "I yam what I yam," says Popeye. Hmmm, I wish I had some of Popeye's super strength right now. Hand me some spinach, would ya? (And a tissue, please?)

When family structure changes, it takes time to adjust. (I'm more like a comfy pair of slippers than I would like to admit.) From the movies we watch to our long debates about film directors on down to cooking pasta for three instead of... six. (What can I say, he likes my cooking.) And I adore his company.

All the emotion and commotion of "kids leaving for college" reminds me of labor pains. Some women swear up and down (mostly down) that giving birth, to them, doesn't hurt. And I believe them (sort of...maybe.) But, my point is, I want "them" to believe "me" when I say labor hurt "me" like h...&$%#^()*ouch !^%@%^snip!.^%???!! We all process life's passages differently. The end result finds us both smiling into the eyes of a remarkably charming boy or girl-- for about 18 years.

Diversion!!

So. Once I've used up a couple quarts of tears, I find a diversion. And no, it's not the same as "stuffing your feelings." (Remember the tears?) Once we've acknowledged the sadness... diversion is a little blessing from the angels. I begin a new writing project or find a cluttered cabinet to clean. Or BOTH!

Soon after, it doesn't hurt anymore. In truth... after I'm metaphorically all stitched up... it's kind of liberating. Because through the discomfort, there is great joy in knowing my child is excelling and he's happy. What more?

So. I'm going to be okay.

We're ALL going to be okay.

And before I know it... I''ll be setting the table for four, once again.

Well, do they?

Do Princesses Have Best Friends Forever?

Hmmmm....wonder-wonder. My guess is, they do! They must! But then again, Cinderella, by Charles Perrault translated by Marcia Brown, did not, (not even mice!) Neither did Princess Daffodil in A.A. Milnes' The Magic Hill, (just a bunch of pretty flowers.) Two of my favorite storybook princesses by the way.

In real life we cherish our small, medium, and large moments with our friends. It's pretty much at the top of most of our to-do fun-lists. So, in my latest book, Do Princesses Have Best Friends Forever? illustrated by the fabulous Mike Gordon, our everyday princess learns that she...whoops, well with only 250 words in the entire book, I better not give TOO much away. :O)

Coming Soon to a book or toy store or library near you.

Pre-orders available now at Amazon , Barnes and other favorite online stores!!

Special thanks to my little test group of awesome girlfriends for your input. (Aunt Jinnie, Thea, Sharon, Mary, Cindy)