Part Two: What Happened to My Toes?

I had every intention of waking up bright and early to be dressed and ready for my friend Gillian to arrive from Coventry. Hmmm...instead I woke up when she called to say that she was five minutes from arriving. Whoops. Corina and I immediately put some clothes on and rushed out to meet her. I hadn't seen Gillian since December 2006 when I made a holiday trip to Seattle, and it goes without saying that it was good to see her again.

Gillian kindly waited for me to wash my hair and to look somewhat presentable before greeting the mean streets of London. After a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs with carrots and a crumpet (it is England, indeed!), Gillian and I left Corina to do some job searching and headed straight for Picadilly.

We hadn't walked for very long before my pinky toes decided that they didn't like the totally cute blue flats that I got a Target. With every step my toes got pushed further and further into the sides of the shoes to the point where I was about to kick them to the curb and go barefoot. Kind of a lame way to start the day, but a good excuse to go shoe shopping. Gillian had an errand at the Apple store, so I made an unsuccessful trip to the Nike store. (Is it me, or is Nike just producing ugly shoes these days?) I went to a couple other places until Gillian and I struck comfy shoe gold when we spotted a sale at the Clarks store. With a new pair of red MaryJanes, I was ready to get back on the road, and in particular Portobello Road.

Gillian navigated the tube system to get us to Notting Hill. Like most of you, I imagine, my only knowledge of this charming neighborhood is by the romantic comedy bearing the same name. Notting Hill is even better in person. We ate lunch at Eat-- a kind of Pret A Manger establishment where you can by freshly made sandwiches and stuff. After lunch I ate a Double Decker (making a total of two Cadbury bars so far.)

Portobello Road is a street full of vintage stores and other quaint shops, plus it holds a street market where people sell old knickknacks, jewelry, produce, etcetera. I nearly bought a lovely cameo ring, but at 20 quid I wasn't sure that I wanted to spend that much money. I kind of regret that...maybe next time. If you were hanging out with us, you would have thought that perhaps Gillian was shopping for single men. I hope she doesn't mind me recording this memory, but it was really hilarious. If there was a well-toned fellow within twenty feet of us, she spotted him. I could barely keep up.

That being said, let me just briefly state one thing that I absolutely loved about London. I noticed that if a guy saw a girl he liked he would smile at her. Well, I certainly noticed it happened in my direction. It was incredibly flattering. Now, certainly it wasn't the first time a fellow noticed me. Hispanic men honk, whistle, and shout. Persian men stare. Creepily. I am pretty sure we could come to all sorts of conclusions about why I like the male Brit attentions, but with Hispanic and Persian men I just get the impression that they do the same things to no matter which female walks by them. It is much better for the self-esteem, when a select few make you feel good about yourself as they smile when you walk by.

Another thing I loved: Hummingbird Bakery. I went there with the express reason to taste their products and bring cupcakes back to Dubai. Hummingbird is another one of the many cupcake/American style dessert shops on this planet. It does have a good clientele, including Gwyneth Paltrow, and in my opinion the most delicious vanilla cake I have ever tasted. Better than Magnolia, and better than where I currently work. They were clean out of cupcakes when Gillian and I arrived at 5pm. But I had a huge slice of their gorgeous vanilla cake.

As we headed to the tube Gillian and I found the bookstore from Notting Hill.

On the tube we smiled at the cute boys, exchanged stories, and I wanted to chop off my feet. My pinky toes were still hurting, and the balls of my feet were also joining the pity party. They complained loudly, but I pretended not to hear them.

We met up with Corina who showed us a Chipotle knock-off, and for two tortilla-deprived girls it was heaven.

She also introduced us to the Angel neighborhood where Gillian encountered an Israeli waiter whom she thought was an angel. She was quite taken with him. I was more taken with the polenta, lime, pistachio cake slice I bought. (Are you keeping a sugar tally? I am just as amazed that I didn't have an upset stomach.) No worries, Corina walked us all over a part of London I would have never even thought to visit. Well, rather, I hobbled along and occasionally stopped to gawk, gush, and swoon over the clothes and other objects in store windows. I realized then and there that the reason I like fall so much is because of fall clothes.

After a quick errand at Sainsbury grocery store where we picked up food for the next day, orange-flavored KitKats, and bath foam (for 15 pence!) we took our tired and cranky feet home. I took off my shoes to survey the damage. Ouch! Blisters on the balls of my feet, and two very large blisters on the tips of my pinkies. So big that they were pushing my toenails off. I did some minor surgery on them and happily stayed off them for the rest of the evening.

Layover in London: Part One

Fortunately the travel deity was smiling on me during my trip to London, and I had an infinitely better flight. (Except for a little discussion I had with a security guy about the need for more than one Ziplock bag. Seriously, who can fit all the toiletries in one quart-sized bag?!?!) I couldn't sleep as well as I wanted during the flight, but that problem was ameliorated by the precocious German-speaking Swiss boy seated next to me. He was probably five or six, and at first he couldn't quite grasp the fact that I had no clue what he was saying to me. His mom explained to him that I spoke English, but I think we managed to be friends anyway. At times when I would wake up from my brief, sporadic naps I would find his head on my shoulder or his arm on his lap. I hope his mom was okay with that....

Because I had filled my umpteen suitcases and carry-on bags with treats from the States, I decided not to be that annoying passenger on the tube and instead took a cab from Heathrow to my friend Corina's house. Plus, I think taking one of those iconic London taxi cabs are part of the fun of visiting England. I must admit that I grinned to myself when the driver sat in the other side of the car. It's funny--I almost believed that driving on the right side of the car is just something the Brits do for the tourists, but after being on the freeway for awhile I realized that everyone drives that way, not just cabs full of American tourists.

Eighty-five whopping pounds later I arrived at Corina's apartment a little tired, but totally giddy. While Corina had a tea-date and some job searching to do, I showered and afterwards took a walk to get the blood flowing. I liked her neighborhood. It had charming houses, trees, and it was utterly and completely British.

I also ate a Star Bar, which officially began my goal to eat Cadbury every day on my trip.

I took a nap, ate some potato kale soup, and then Corina and I headed for some nightlife. The blessing of staying with a friend in a city like this one is that you get to hang out with someone who actually knows what to do once the museums close for the night. When I was visited London in 2002, I was completely baffled at the thought of entertaining myself at night. I'm not one for bars and clubs, so yes after a cheap meal at the hostel I would spend the evening alone in my room reading a book. Nerdy? You bet. But at least I saw a show one night.

Back to London Trip 2009. Corina and I took a bus (which also drives on the other side of the road) to some part of town and we went to an open mic night that one of her church friends organizes. We went to some bar that had a lot of Jamaican/African customers. We were two of the maybe seven white people in this very crowded establishment. Which, of course, made it even more interesting. There were some fabulous singers, and some not-so-fabulous singers, but it was so fun. Corina and I were even asked to have our picture taken for some publicity shots to show people that the open mic night draws a diverse crowd. I think it was the first time I added to the diversity of a crowd.

Corina and I are both tall people, and I don't know how it is for short people, but it is hard for both of us to stand for a long time without experiencing lower back pain, so we ended up leaving the bar before the mic closed. Probably for the best as I was tired, and needed energy for a full day of London sightseeing the next day.

Last Days

I hope to have my vacation blogging finished soon. It has been crazy busy at work, and I have been a little too cranky to type things up. Plus there has been this little issue with me trying to move a picture from iPhoto to this blog. I think I've figured it out.

I spent the last few days in the U.S. of A in Seattle with my sister, cousins, and friends. I was really glad that my sister Andrea accompanied me the last few days, and not only because she provided me with transportation. Our quality time actuality started in Spokane when we went and saw Where the Wild Things Are and I helped her become Madame Hooch for a Halloween party.

We had a nice drive across the mountains, and arrived at my cousin Alicia's house in time for a nice walk to my old junior high. The walk to and from school when I was younger was the reason I was a twig. It is uphill both ways, and one of those hills is actually a staircase consisting of 210 railroad tie steps. It was a good workout for us, and we totally earned Alicia's good soup and cinnamon rolls. I could so use a workout like that here.

Andrea was my shadow for a bit the following day when we met my former co-worker, Michael, for lunch at Noah's Bagels in Mercer Island. (I had chili and a pumpkin bagel). It was fun meeting up with Michael, and he told me all about cyclocross (cross-country biking). Maybe I'll have to take that up one of these days. He took a picture of me and my sis, but it still in my email... After that filling meal and conversation, Andrea and I headed to Pike Place Market. No visit to Seattle is complete without a trip there. If I could, I would've hugged that place.

I hugged my sister instead as we took that self photo. I bought some jams and honey, and then we decided to warm up a bit with a cup of hot chocolate from Dilletante. No cup of autumn cocoa is complete without a donut, so we headed to Top Pot. It has been a really long time since I have eaten a donut, and the old-fashioned varieties we chose were heavenly. I picked out a pumpkin flavor. (P.S. Not only did I attempt to eat huge amounts of junk food while home, I also sought out anything pumpkin.) Upon our return to Alicia's house, we were surprised with a visit from our cousin Stephanie, who joined us all for a taco dinner. I was so glad she came over. We worked off our treats of the day with a trip to the gym with Alicia.

Cousin-time continued the next day as Andrea and I drove up to spend the day with my Natalie and her two daughters. I have already told you about sweet Leah, and well, as you may have guessed, she continued to be sweet. We played with some toys and Natalie introduced us to Yo Gabba Gabba--pretty much the coolest kids show on the tube these days. (Look out next year for an appearance from Weezer on the show!) We trekked of to a new Fred Meyer store for lunch with Uncle Bruce, and to collect last minute items like Crystal Light and Little Debbie snacks. (Not for me, by the way). It was sad to make a round of good-byes to Uncle Bruce, Natalie, and her girls. But very comforting to know that in roughly 4 1/2 months I can see them again.

That night I finally met up with some Seattle friends. I didn't make as much time for friends in this trip as I would have liked, so my deepest apologies for any oversights and hurt feelings. (Remember, I'll be back in the state in March 2010!!) Andrea and I joined Erin, Carol, Brett, Stacey, and Bob for dinner at PF Chang. It was good food, but it didn't hold a candle to the joy one has when catching up and reminiscing about fun memories. Some of us, and I won't name names here, felt it necessary to bring up some pretty embarrassing stories about a certain blogger who will also remain nameless. Will no one forget my foibles?!?! After the fortune cookies were cracked, we resumed the chatter at Erin's until Stacey fell asleep on Bob's shoulder, and we all decided to call it a night. I recently watched on Oprah, that people in Okinawa credit their longevity to a good friendship support system. I totally get that. That night re-juvinated me.

Finally the sad day came for me to leave the companionship of family and friends. I visited the temple, and then Andrea had a very filling, although not-so-nutritious, meal from Triple X. I love that place. Andrea totally dug it too, as I knew she would. Not only are the burgers good and greasy, but the root beer is pretty awesome. Andrea also appreciated the classic car decor.

At last Andrea drove me to the airport. I had a great time with my sister. We hadn't hung out like that since she visited me in New York nearly two years ago. Thanks Andrea for joining me in Seattle!

I hugged her good-bye, and got on the plane. Next stop: London.

Growing Up

*Author's note: I edited the 3rd from the bottom paragraph to reflect, that I actually do like living on foreign soils.

One of the best parts of being home was being taken care of by my parents. Even though I am thirty-three years old, and quite independent, it was nice to be under the watchful eye of loving caregivers. As it turns out, however, this thirty-three year old independent girl is still quite dependent.

While I was home I went to the dentist (no cavities!!), bought a new computer, and updated my wardrobe a bit--all thanks to mom and dad. I couldn't have done any of that without the financial backing of my more solvent parental unit. Their wonderful generosity, for which I am incredibly grateful, provided a mean sort of revelation that at my age, and especially after all the career choices I have made, I am not self-reliant.

Due to the economic crisis, and the recent Sunday School lesson on self-reliance, this fact weighed down on my mind. My career choice isn't turning into what I want. (Again.) And worse, it isn't even helping me survive as an adult. Part of the problem is that I live in Dubai, and my boss pays me less here than what I could bring home in the States. The payment of a "great experience" has far from panned out as well. And now I hate my once-hobby. Once again I feel like I am back at square one, and still trying to figure out this whole "being a grown-up" business.

It is an interesting sort of challenge to choose one's life-work or career. We have so many choices, and thanks to Barbie, girls like me feel they can do anything (like Barbie!--please note that she is now a Fairy Princess, and that isn't a very lucrative career choice). Perhaps if I lived in the 1950's my career choice would be easier as they would pretty much be limited to: teacher, secretary, nurse, and mother. Maybe growing up would be easier with less choices.

Part of the trouble of trying to figure out "what we want to be when we grow up" is because we tend pigeon-hole "be" as the type of occupation, and we forget there is a bit more to being a grown-up. Maybe at age five we should have asked ourselves, "what kind of life do I want to have when I grow up," and then we could find the career that fits in with that lifestyle.

And that is the scale I am going to use from here on out in deciding my adult behavior. Here's what I've figured out so far:

I'm not very good with desk jobs; I get easily distracted and end up writing more personal emails than business ones. I like having real weekends, and holidays off. I like to spend time with my family, and yet I like to travel away from them. I need a place that fosters creativity and problem solving. I prefer to have interaction--I'm pretty sure I have cubicle-induced ADHD. I want time for projects, hobbies, and things I want to learn like upholstering or other languages. I want to have friends close by--new and old. I want to use those foreign language skills that I acquired. I want to dress up for work; my spirit needs to dress up, and I fear I've forgotten how to do it. And if I bake for money, it will be small projects on my time off or a summer farmer's market. And when I bake for fun, it will not be cupcakes. And finally, when I live in a different country I want to be able to actually live in that country--not just work the whole time.

I think I have figured out a path, but would like your input as well (yes, a request for comments). In the meantime, I will plan on returning to school. And in April I will be back under my parent's roof, letting them take care of me, hanging out in their bedroom watching Criminal Minds and eating popcorn while I get all of this figured/planned out.

Now, however, I have to go finish my laundry because, unfortunately, my mom isn't here to do it for me. And it is one of the few grown-up things I can do successfully, after all.

Yes, Please!

I interrupt my travelogue to post a video of a song from a band that I love. Apparently this song has been on the airwaves for about a month, so I am probably a little love in showing my affection. But in case the rest of you have either been on vacation or suffering through someone else's iPod, like me, here is something a little joyful and hopeful.



I would say that is a bit more "pop" than their music is normally, but I like it. I like the hopeful vibe. I haven't been feeling that adjective very often since my move to the Middle East, and it's nice to have music influence a good mood.

P.S. and by the way, the band is releasing their "greatest hits" collection soon/now. Sure, I have a lot of their songs anyway, but I think it could be a worthy purchase. So, if you were wondering what to get me for Christmas...

From one Desert to Another

You may be getting pretty tired of these picture-less vacation posts, but you will have to deal with it because: 1) I didn't use my camera for 2/3 of my vacation; 2) I haven't figured out how to post a picture I saved in iPhoto (on my new Mac. Help someone!); and 3) you already know what you look like anyway.

Since my sister's teeth surgery was more important than flying the whole family to Seattle (indeed it was, I'm not being sarcastic) my sister flew me down to see my niece and nephew, both of whom have grown quite a bit since I saw them a whopping two years ago. Sam is nearly my height, and even though his voice is much lower, it sounded just like him. The best word to describe Liz is: pixie. With her heart-shaped face, lithe frame, small mouth, and hair that flips in places she is very much like a pixie. What good-looking kids. What good kids, too. I couldn't help but feel that they were good and tried to do good as well.

In the interest of keeping this interesting, I'll cover the main points of my visit to Arizona:

• the first order of business on my trip to Arizona was my nephew's football game. This is his first year playing football, and he is a fullback on the 9th grade team. I was warned that the team wasn't very successful, and the rumor proved true during the first few seconds when the opposing team scored a touchdown and a two-point conversion. I was very glad that Sam got to play a lot during the 4th quarter (and carry the ball too!) otherwise I wouldn't have been able to say "I am so glad that I got to see you play!" after his team got sorely beaten. Sam loves playing football, and he has not yet been discouraged by the lack of wins; hard practices, and the jerky starting players. I love that he enjoys it.

• The next day Amy introduced me to what I see as the one benefit of living in Arizona: RetroTV. We should probably be embarrassed to admit to watching countless hours of T.V. instead of touring Phoenix, but it was loads of fun reminiscing over our favorite childhood shows, like Emergency! and A-Team. The latter remains a T.V. icon (and an upcoming feature-length film), but does anyone else remember Emergency!--the late 70's medical drama(?) about a couple of EMT, doctors, and taciturn nurse? It was fabulous--it's even better to watch it now, and compare it with similar shows in our day that probably hire doctors to help write the medical stuff. The stark differences between medical dramas today and that show turned the once-dramatic stuff into sheer comedy: "We don't know why your toddler stopped breathing, but we do know that it happens sometimes." Or "How do we get this (80-year-old) woman off the hill during the wildfire?" "We can strap the stretcher to the top of our truck." Something very similar to that, at least.
  

• Friday, we made a quick mile or so hike on this little hill somewhere in Phoenix. Sam, in full football-training mode decided to run. Show-off. I was glad that it was not humid and that we didn't see any rattlesnakes or scorpions. Liz saw a roadrunner. My sister and I discussed my future.

• It's always fun to see Uncle Jerry, although the visit was pretty quick. He mostly just asked about Dubai, and I was glad to recount as much as I could. Sometimes I get a little boring when people find out that I actually haven't seen anything too exciting. I haven't even seen a camel.
  

• While in town, I got a much needed haircut. I've had my haircut twice in the Middle East, and both times were disappointing. While in the chair it was discovered that my hair is wavier than I thought. It's amazing what one can discover with good hair products and a diffuser. And to think that I've been hiding all of this in a ponytail and under a bandanna. I've been trying to let it go wavy in public now, but I am not sure what to do with the bangs, and I need bangs.

• I ate my first Sprinkles cupcakes. They were fine. I liked the idea of the cinnamon sugar cupcake, though. It's nice to have a non-frosting option.

• IloveyouAnthropologieforeverandeverandeverandoneofthesedaysIwillgetabetterjobsoIcanafford you.

• I had a fun night out with my friend LeeAnn, who left Seattle for Phoenix about the time I left for NYC. It's always good to hang out with her. I love that she loves her job; it inspires me. Plus she's active and social, and that inspires me as well. We went to a lyrical opera entitled "The Turn of a Screw" or something like that. Here's my thoughts: Don't go. Unless you absolutely love everything that is in the form of an opera or love everything that Henry James wrote. I didn't love the music or the idea of ghosts fondling children. LeeAnn felt the same way, so we ditched the opera for Greek food, frozen yogurt, and good conversation. So much better than the opera.
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• Saturday morning Liz and I helped my sister with a photo shoot/promotion for a dog kennel/place to do dog stuff. Liz was very confident about setting up our information booth; I guess she helps out pretty often. Then I got to sit with her and chat about school, fashion, and all the dogs we saw. She was such a fun baby, toddler, little girl, and now that she is 12 years old she is growing into a fabulous person.
  
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• I don't remember which days these things happened, but they made me happy. One night for dinner my brother-in-law Jake made burritos, and we s'mores for dessert. Another time we ate waffles. I've missed those food items. But I think you already know that.
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• So apparently Blogger wants to do funny stuff with my bullet points. Oh well.
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• Sunday morning my sister and I participated in the Susan G. Komen Walk for the Cure, although I would like to submit that the event should be called the Susan G. Komen Shuffle for the Cure because there were so many people that we didn't really take any normal walking strides. I was glad to do the walk for such a good cause, and I wore a friend's name on my back to show support for her. However, I just have to say these two things: 1)I don't particularly like cheerleaders shouting out cheers like, "Go Boobies!" It sounds like something one would hear at Hooters or Las Vegas. 2) It was a 5k walk/shuffle--not a race--and it was so not hard, so the typical "you're almost done" "good work" "you can do it" shouts were a little misplaced. It's not a marathon, for crying out loud. The only place where those cheers may be necessary would be while standing in a long line in front of an outhouse at such events. Those are my opinions, treat them as such.

Thanks Amy, Jake, Sam, Liz, and Shadow the dog that became my shadow. I had a wonderful time.

From the Laboratory vs. From the Garden

The funny thing about my trip to the states was that, as far as food is concerned, all I wanted to eat was good ol' American junk food. Even before my trip, I anticipated treats like Diet Dr. Pepper, Top Pot donuts, Sonic tater tots, and processed lunch meat. Oh yes, my first sandwich upon arrival at the folk's house was a bologna sandwich, with cheese, mustard, and potato chips (inside the sandwich, naturally.) I snacked on the candy in Grandma's room; had a can of various brands of diet cola each day; ate copious amounts of microwaved popcorn (oh wait, I do that in Dubai too); enjoyed different types of fried potatoes, luxuriously devoured a pumpkin pie shake from Jack in the Box, and shared a cream puff with my Grandma (although that was entirely her idea. Well, she was craving one, I encouraged her to buy it with the offer to share). It would appear from that menu that my one goal for that trip was to shorten my life with clogged arteries, or depending on your opinion, lengthen it with a plethora of preservatives.

Who can say? But when conversing with my American friend who lives in London, she had a similar desire to eat processed food as well. I specifically recall that she hunted down some Cheez-Its during her recent U.S. vacation. In Bill Bryson's book I'm a Stranger Here Myself, a collection of articles he wrote for London's Daily Mail about returning to the States after 20 years in the UK, he writes one article about his trip to the grocery store to giddily buy as much American processed junk as his wife would let him. She begrudgingly agreed, but with the understanding that he would have to eat all the of the frozen waffles, chips, snack cakes, candy, etc. by himself. He was happy to do so, but quickly grew sick of all the junk, and even hid some in the back of his refrigerator. (P.S.: read the book; it is laugh-out-loud hilarious.)

In my short time in the States, I never quite reached the "sick of the junk food" phase--even when my waistline was exhibiting signs of expansion. I was determined to get it all in--like that huge bowl of caramel popcorn...yum.

I think I can credit the lack of junk-food sickness because my diet was also filled with delicious home cooked meals with produce from the garden, homemade bread (although that did contribute to midsection growth, as bread likes to do), oatmeal cooked all night in a crockpot, and did I mention vegetables from the garden. Nothing says "invest in a farm co-op" like the taste of a home-grown tomato.

In fact, one of my favorite meals was one that yours truly whipped up. On our beautiful drive from Seattle to Spokane, my family stopped in Ellensburg to visit our friends Bob and Sandy. They have been family friends since before my parents got married. Without them I would have been stuck at the train station in Montauban eight years ago instead of being taken care of by a nice family that they knew who just so happened to live in that town. Also, without them, we wouldn't have had fresh fennel from their garden, and a recipe with which to use said fennel for that meal. I made a braised fennel dish to accompany some leftover pork roast from the big family dinner. Every vegetable in that dish came from a backyard garden: fennel, tomatoes, peas, and I can't remember the rest. It was divine.

So now I am back in Dubai, and I think my junk food cravings have subsided. I don't even salivate over cupcakes right now, and I look forward to making a nice pot of minestrone soup tonight. Even my waist is starting to look normal again. However, I do regret not taking that bag of peanut butter flavored Chex Mix with me...

A Warm Place

Isn't "the bosom of my family" an odd sort of phrase? I am not certain where I heard this phrase, but I kind of think it's scriptural or something. As odd as it is, "bosom" is supposed to be a place of warmth and comfort, figuratively and literally speaking. I had a friend at BYU (you know who you are) that would jokingly bring our heads to his chest while inviting us to "come to his bosom" if we had some sort of grievance. We would push him away in mock horror, but it was kind of nice. Long story short, I spent my vacation in the bosom of my family, but the first Saturday of my month of heaven was spent in the bosom of a huge portion of all my family, figuratively speaking of course.

My older sister had this idea to turn my trip home into a sort of family reunion. She always wants to plan those sorts of functions. If there is anything that belongs on my sister's headstone when she dies it should read "Here lies Amy Briscoe. All she ever wanted was a real Family Reunion." Or something to that effect. So she emailed everyone via Facebook and rallied the troops to get together in Seattle for something big and fun. Then she and her family decided that they couldn't make the trip. Then my brother dropped out. And a few others couldn't visit as well. So instead of a huge reunion-type thing with tugs-of-war and arts&crafts, we had a delicious meal and good company consisting of 1 grandma, 1 uncle, two aunts, 5 cousins, three cousin's spouses, 4 next-generation cousins, 1 dad, 1 mom, 1 sister and me.

It was an entirely lovely day.

My mom, the woman who gave me my skills in the kitchen, as well as a knack for worrying about what to make for dinner, went all out for the meal. She made the following: pork roast (which is naturally the first thing you eat when exiting an Arab country), mashed potatoes, rolls (bread is her specialty), pumpkin pie, and an cast-iron-skillet apple cake. My Uncle Bruce cooked green beans (from the garden) with bacon, and my Aunt Debi brought a salad with tasty citrus dressing (recipe please!). We like to eat in this family, and I must say that this hobby has been enhanced by some talented cooks and creative palates. Everything was so good as it always is.

Growing up, we had a lot of fabulous family meals around the holidays and such. When my immediate family moved away, one of the things I missed the most was being with all the aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. I truly looked forward to Saturday's dinner, and being able to catch up with everyone.

I had the most fun catching up with my cousin's 3-year-old daughter, Leah, who was born shortly after I left for New York. That girl has a lot of energy. Early in the afternoon, she entertained us by singing "If by chance you meet a frown" while marching in a circle. Soon the song got a little bit louder, and we noticed that she was actually singing:
If by chance you meet a smile
do not let it stay
quickly turn it upside-down
and frown that smile away.

All while marching in a circle.

Later, we played an "over and under" game. While sitting with my feet propped up on a chair, I encouraged Leah to crawl under my legs. Then she decided it would be fun to climb over my legs. She's three, but she's not little, and it really hurt when she dug her elbow into my thighs. At some point we were playing a fun game where she would pop up through my legs and hang for a bit. I would also swing her in that position. We totally bonded. Later, when I was having a bit of a nap on the floor, she told her step-cousins not to step on me because I was her cousin. I felt that I had succeeded in becoming a true part of her family, and not just that distant, wandering person whom she may know from pictures or stories.

While everyone shared their time and concern for me, I shared some fun Arabic stuff I brought for the family to try. I bought a whole bunch of roasted nuts, dates, cardamom gum and camel-milk chocolate. The chocolate had a slightly sour aftertaste, but it was actually pretty good. I also brought little bags of zaatar, a traditional herb mix, for everyone to try at home. Zaatar is a combo of thyme, marjoram, sumac, and sesame seeds. I've eaten it mostly on breads in Lebanon. My favorite is a manakish: flat bread sprinkled with halloumi cheese, cooked in a brick oven, and then a thin layer of zaatar mixed with a bit of olive oil. So good. Everyone needs to let me know the results of their zaatar-experiments. (P.S. dear readers, you can buy this stuff at specialty spice stores and at middle-eastern grocery stores.)

It was hard to say good-bye to everyone again at the end of the evening. But it is nice to make plans to come back.