Balcony View

Balcony View
This ain't Alabama

Sunday, February 20, 2011

the things we remember.....

I was swapping emails with my cousin, Michele, recently.  She mentioned my mom - Nana to all in her family - and a visit to her years ago, before she completely lost touch with who we were.  Nana had dementia; a particularly slow decline of memory and function.  One very amazing detail, however, is that she remembered songs.  Songs that were from her childhood or early adulthood.  Every word, every note, and even more amazing, she would sing harmony.  Nana couldn't remember to get dressed, or eat, or the people in her life - things you would assume were important - but she remembered songs and how to sing them.

It got me to thinking about what I would remember, if anything, if someday I'm in her shoes (once I remember to put them on).  Is there anything in my life that is so deeply ingrained in my head and my heart that it will last beyond all else.  It hurts me to imagine not knowing Seth or Lacy, or my brothers, but it could happen.  I don't want to remember work, or my marriage particularly (maybe the good parts), or how unhappy I was at times in my early life - most of my early life actually.

If there is anything I would remember, it would probably be those things that I shouldn't remember now, but somehow do.  Jabberwocky, a poem from Alice in Wonderland that I used as my "talent" in the Jr. Miss Pageant (meaning I had no talent), and other poems I still can recite.  All the old Christmas songs, like "Up On The Rooftop" and "Jolly Old St Nicholas"; those songs Nana sung every Christmas to whatever small children happened to be around that year.   And one other gift from Nana, and old poem called "Little Orphant Annie".  I don't know how many times I heard it while growing up.  It can't have been that many, but it stuck.  Especially the last part, which has an eerie beauty to it in it's description of an old-time country evening:

Little orphant Annie says that when the blaze is blue
And the lampwick sputters, and the wind goes "wooo-wooo"
And you hear the crickets quit, and the moon is gray
And the lightnin' bugs in dew is all squenched away
You better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear
And cherish them what loves you , and dry the orphants' tear
And help the poor and needy ones that clusters all about
Or the goblins'll get YOU if you don't watch out!!

I did a little research to see if I could find this poem and it's origins.  I was quite surprised.  The poem was written in 1885, and was actually the inspiration for both the comic strip and the "Raggedy Ann" doll.  The author was from Indiana, and the poem has quite a history, which can be found in Wikipedia along with the full poem.

This poem and others represent the things, other than my family, that I would keep with me if I could choose.  You can bet that my grandchildren will hear it, along with several others and, yes, all the old Christmas carols that drive my kids crazy.  That is one piece of my mom, Nana, that will last for generations.  That is one piece that I can hold on to myself, as long as my brain will let me.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

the best potato pancakes

I recently had yet another birthday.  Not complaining at all - I love birthdays.  Having a birthday validates my belief that yes, I am still here.

This birthday was special for many reasons.  My first in Chicago, my first as a granma, another half-decade milestone.  The most special was my big birthday gift.

My gift from Lacy and Jeff was that Lacy came to Chicago alone, and we had our first real time together since my move.  Even on my trips to Alabama, we've not had much time together to just hang out.  Our usual hours-long trips to Costco and Target and Marshalls and Hobby Lobby or other fun money-grabbing places have been missing, and we've both missed them big much.  We had a fabulous time doing nothing but wandering around and shopping.    In the afternoon, we visited our favorite neighborhood bar and proceeded to allow the bartenders (who were made privy to my age by Lacy singing Sammy Hagar) to treat us with more than is advisable to drink when you're not done shopping for the day.  Let's just say it led to a return trip to Sports Authority the following morning to return a bunch o' stuff.  We went to dinner at Cafe Lago, which is a tiny family-owned Italian restaurant just a few blocks away that was suggested by my aunt and uncle (them what know the city well).  I got kisses from the owner-in-charge, and it snowed on us during the walk home.

All of that aside, it was a special day in and of itself just by being a Saturday in the city with my baby girl.

One wish I had for my birthday was to have the best potato pancakes ever for breakfast.  On my first adult visit-for-fun trip to Chicago, a friend and I decided to find a "Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives" place to eat.  We came upon Glenn's Diner, known for it's seafood, but also for it's breakfast and cereal selection.  (Yes, cereal - you just have to see it).  I fell in love with the rich, creamy, yummy potato pancakes they serve with everything.  They are almost too rich to eat.  I don't think Lacy was as impressed as I with the creamy conglomeration of potatoes, scallions, and who-knows-what-else.  They are certainly nothing like the potato patties I grew up on, made from leftover mashed potatoes, egg, and milk.  I think it's well worth the trip up to Glenn's just to taste this humble side dish.

Since the birthday breakfast, I've been pondering on just what they do put in those pancakes.  I decided I would try and come close to their recipe, which I'm sure I won't do, but I think I've come up with a pretty good idea for some fairly bitchin' pancakes of my own.  I'm going to shred some Idaho potatoes, mix with some egg, chopped scallions (or green onions, since that's all they had at the Jewel-Osco), salt, pepper, and some evaporated milk, which won't be as rich as real cream.  Drop a big spoonful into some oil and butter, and see what comes out.  I can't see any way to go wrong with fried potatoes, especially mixed with something to stick them together.  I love hashbrowns, and this is just a way to add a little flavor and filling.

Right or wrong, I'll follow up with what the result was.  It's sure to be far from Glenn's, but it will be right down the alley of "Lynn's".  hahahahaha!