A decade: Are you reelin’ in the years?
2000
London calling, yes, I was there too
I love you, yes I do, well, it says
so in this Book of Love
Buona sera, signor, kiss me
goodnight
Oo la la la, c’est magnifique!
Oh yes, the world will always
welcome lovers
Your love’s put me at the top of the world
Skal vi gå på ski?
2001
Talk me out of Tampa (no, don’t!)
2002
Beautiful Boy
2003
10 years: Gonna take a ride across the
moon, you and me
Great-Grandma always takes the time
Oldemor & Bestemor: She’s got her special
ways to chase the clouds away
2004
Just a boy and his dog
Rock-a-bye my sweet baby girls
I’m dreamin’ tonight of a place I love
2005
Put them all together they spell Mother
Even more than I usually do
And although I know it’s a long road back
2006
It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to
13 years: I need you to love me
I’d be made in the shade
Everyone’s smiling just for me when I go home
These boots are made for walking, and that’s
just what they’ll do, one of these days these
boots are gonna walk all over you.
On top of the world again
Peekaboo!
I promise you
2007
They say it’s your birthday; it’s my birthday
too, yeah! We’re gonna have a good time!
Just keep swimming
I’m gone to Carolina in my mind
Bus stop, wet day, she’s there, I say, please
share my umbrella
W-a-s-h-i-n-g-t-o-n, baby, D.C.!
It’s not because it is the grand old seat
Of precious freedom and democracy
It’s the bloggers, baby!
I’ll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light beams
2008
We are family, I got all my cousins with me
Oh, I could write a sonnet about your Easter
bonnet
I get by with a little help from my friends
A word that means the world to me
Goodbye city life. Green Acres we are there!
2009
Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see
you dance again
Posted by Becky @
11:06 am |
Spinnin’ wheel got to go round
I have a confession to make. I can’t knit. Or crochet. Or anything like that. I have all this beautiful handiwork from Norway, and I don’t know how to fix it. Take, for example, my daughters’ blankets.
See?
Did you hear that? That was all the Norwegians who know how to knit (and even the other two who don’t) gasping in horror. At this rate, I’ll never get to be an honorary Norwegian. Heck, for this high crime, I’ll be banished to live in darkness with the trolls and never be allowed to touch a pretty thing again.
In the meantime, I’ll have to beg for help from real Norwegians who can do things like this.
And this. (Well, *I* made the babies.)
And this.
And this.
Help!
Posted by Becky @
6:00 am |
Food: Fish soup
January 13, 2010 | Food, Norway
Growing up, I never knew much about eating fish, except that fish usually came in breaded sticks from the freezer. When I married a Norwegian (who ate fish almost every day when he was growing up), I couldn’t help but learn more about eating fish. These days, whenever we visit Norway, we eat a lot more fish than we usually do. My absolute favorite fish dish is my mother-in-law’s fish soup. I tell my son that he liked his bestemor’s fish soup before he was even born. We were visiting Norway during the summer I was pregnant with him. When I ate Bestemor’s fish soup, he kicked like crazy. If you ever want to try the best fish soup ever, here it is.
Fiskesuppe
aka
My Mother-in-law Makes the Best Fish Soup in the World
Ingredients
2 pounds (about 4 cups) fish (I use cod and salmon)
1 teaspoon salt
bottle of wine
2 tablespoon butter
2 cups carrots, finely sliced
2 cups leeks, finely sliced
2 tablespoon flour
4 1/2 cups broth from fish
1 1/2 cups crème fraîche (see recipe below)
2 cup shrimp
1 tablespoon fresh dill, minced
Salt
Pepper
Put fish in water and 1 teaspoon salt. Heat just
until boiling and remove from heat.
With a slotted spoon, remove the fish from the
water and cut into small pieces. (Check for
bones.)
Open a bottle of wine and pour
yourself a glass. (Mine was
strawberry wine from Florida.)
Remove fish residue from water with a small
strainer or spoon.
Melt 2 tablespoon butter in bottom of a pot.
Add carrots and leeks and warm through.
Sprinkle flour over vegetables, then add fish
broth. Heat to boiling.
Stir in crème fraîche.
Place fish in soup with slotted spoon. Heat to
boiling, then add shrimp and dill. Salt and
pepper to taste.
Vær så god! ~ Bon appétit! ~ Dig in!
………………………………………………………………………………………
Crème fraîche
I made my own crème fraîche, thanks to Sharon Tyler Herbst’s Food Lover’s Companion. I changed the amounts to 1 1/2 cups whipping cream and 3 tablespoons buttermilk. Here’s what she said: “This matured, thickened cream has a slightly tangy, nutty flavor and velvety rich texture. The thickness of crème fraîche can range from that of commercial sour cream to almost as solid as room-temperature margarine. In France, where crème fraîche is a specialty, the cream is unpasteurized and therefore contains the bacteria necessary to thicken it naturally. In America, where all commercial cream is pasteurized, the fermenting agents necessary fo crème fraîche can be obtained by adding buttermilk or sour cream. A very expensive American facsimile of crème fraîche is sold in some gourmet markets. The expense seems frivolous, however, when it’s so easy to make an equally delicious version at home. To do so, combine 1 cup whipping cream and 2 tablespoons buttermilk in a glass container. Cover and let stand at room temperature (about 70°F) from 8 to 24 hours, or until very thick. Stir well before covering and refrigerate up to 10 days.Crème fraîche is the ideal addition for sauces or soups because it can be boiled without curdling. It’s delicious spooned over fresh fruit or other desserts such as warm cobblers or puddings.”
………………………………………………………………………………………
Without pictures
Fiskesuppe
aka
My Mother-in-law Makes the Best Fish Soup in the World
Ingredients
2 pounds (about 4 cups) fish (I use cod and salmon)
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoon butter
2 cups carrots, finely sliced
2 cups leeks, finely sliced
2 tablespoon flour
4 1/2 cups broth from fish
1 1/2 cups crème fraîche
2 cup shrimp
1 tablespoon fresh dill, minced
Salt
Pepper
Put fish in water and 1 teaspoon salt. Heat just until boiling and remove from heat. Remove the fish with a slotted spoon from the water and cut into small pieces. (Check for bones.) Remove fish residue from water with a small strainer or spoon. Melt 2 tablespoon butter in bottom of a pot. Add carrots and leeks and warm through. Sprinkle flour over vegetables, then add fish broth. Heat to boiling. Stir in crème fraîche. Place fish in soup with slotted spoon. Heat to boiling, then add shrimp and dill. Salt and pepper to taste. Serves 4.
Crème fraîche
Combine 1 1/2 cups whipping cream and 3 tablespoons buttermilk in a glass container. Cover and let stand at room temperature (about 70°F) from eight to 24 hours or until very thick. Stir well before covering, and refrigerate up to 10 days. (Source: Food Lover’s Companion by Sharon Tyler Herbst, 1995.)
Posted by Becky @
2:56 pm |
Drinking in the New Year over at Ilina’s
I got to meet Ilina in Chicago last summer. She’s always cooking up something tasty and tempting, and she celebrates 5:00 every Friday with a cocktail. And guess what? She let me kick off the new year with a guest post. Thanks, Ilina! Raising my glass and wishing you a happy New Year!
Posted by Becky @
5:15 pm |
Breaking in the lefse grill
Yes, I got a lefse grill last year.
Shiny, huh? No, I haven’t used it. Well, I hadn’t used it until my mother-in-law, sister-in-law and niece were here from Norway. Here we are (MIL & me) in all our aproned glory. And, yes, I’m pretending to know what’s going on.
Here’s the lefse recipe.
Here’s everything else.
Yum!
Posted by Becky @
6:00 am |
Call Guinness*! I think we’re about to set a record
See that? That’s how much the Kristiansund Hospital in Norway wants for one overnight stay for my daughter in December. That’s NOK 9750,00 (Norwegian kroner) or about $1,780. That brings our running tab for this vacation to almost $14,000. For three weeks — and one day (thanks, Haris) — in Norway. Next time a Norwegian says they have “free” health care? Don’t believe it. I never have. Paying a 50-percent income tax rate when we lived in Norway was enough to make me believe that nothing is free.
So, dear Norwegian Consulate in Houston, can you help a mother out? (Or anyone? Please?) It apparently doesn’t matter that our daughter has dual citizenship, a Norwegian passport and a Norwegian identification number. I know she doesn’t live in Norway, but this was an emergency.
I suppose it wasn’t great timing for the hospital stay, considering all the news about Gro Harlem Brundtland at the time. Norwegians were all up in arms about her use of the Norwegian health-care system. She’s a former Norwegian prime minister. She’s also a physician and former head of the World Health Organization. (Sorta ironic, no?) She’s retired now and lives in France, and Norwegians weren’t about to let her get “free” health care that included a hip operation. Never mind that she probably paid up to half of her lifetime salary in taxes to pay for Norway’s “free” health care. And never mind that she’s one of those people Norway’s system is supposed to care for in its cradle-to-grave “safety net.”
…
*I meant this Guinness.
But a few of these wouldn’t hurt. (Although, who has money for beer? Sigh.)
P.S. The bill arrived today. I’m afraid to check my mail anymore.
Posted by Becky @
7:20 pm |
But the emporer has nothing on at all!
I was discussing the Gates of Hell chapter of the Nightmare in Norway with someone the other night.
“I would have said, ‘I want to speak to your boss, and your boss’s boss and your boss’s boss’s boss, NOW’ … you know … go up the chain of command,” he said.
Chain of command. Yeah, the military does that to a person, I guess. Maybe that works in that world.
But, really, how much latitude does a customer-bot (we’re not human beings anymore) have in an airport before going from concerned about service to a security threat? I mean, how many times could I have told Haris, “I want to speak to your boss,” before he felt “threatened” by me and sent me spiraling into the Circles of Hell to, you know … stun guns, shackles, detention, jail … that sorta thing? I mean … really?
Besides, who’s to say Haris the employee-bot (they’re not human beings anymore either) wouldn’t have just said, “No.”
Then what?
It’s happened before. I called a “customer service” line to ask for, well, customer service. (Oh, silly me.) When I got nowhere with the employee-bot, I asked to speak to his supervisor. He put me on hold. He came back and told me his supervisor refused to speak to me.
Refused to speak to me.
I asked for the name of the president of the company. He said he didn’t know. “Well, could you check?” I asked. He put me on hold again. He came back and said, “It’s against company policy to give you that information.”
It was against company policy to tell me who runs the company.
He was right. I couldn’t find the president’s name anywhere on the company Web site. In fact, three companies were involved, and none of their contact information was available through any of the companies. I had to look them up by other means. But, hey, I found them. (I need to write a love letter to the Internet.) I sent an e-mail to all of them and the customer-service department. To their credit, they actually resolved my problem. Very satisfactorily, even.
Apparently, though, it’s become standard operating procedure that employee-bots (and their CEOs) do not work for customer-bots — even if they are in the service industry. Hell, employee-bots don’t even work for their CEOs anymore. They work for the computer screens in front of them. They can only do what their computers tell them to do, which — when it comes to customer-bots — usually isn’t much.
I suppose PR bullshit goes way back, and none of this is new. Am I the only one who can remember things like “the customer is always right” … or was that just PR bullshit too? I couldn’t help thinking about The Emporer’s New Clothes, which I recently grabbed off the shelf for my son. (I got the Virginia Lee Burton pictures from a 1968 version of the book by Scholastic Book Services.)
You call your employees co-workers and expect them (and us) to believe it?
No clothes!
You say you “work hard to earn my business every time I fly”?
No clothes!
You say, “They’ll hold the plane for you”?
No clothes!
You say, “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do”?
No clothes!
It’s not like I’ve never gotten good customer service. I got incredible service yesterday, in fact. More than once. (I’ll write about it one of these days.) But when I get excellent or good or, heck, even fair-to-middling customer service, isn’t it a shame that it makes me want to weep with joy? Why should it be the exception and not the rule?
I ran across a few examples of suckass non-service just skimming through my feeder this morning. Matthew at Childs Play x2 warns his readers not to shop at Home Decorators. Planet Nomad writes about inexplicable weirdness at Starbucks. CrankMama has a few choice words to say about Verizon. Updated: I just found this priceless exchange on Hotfessional. Updated2: Wow. They just keep coming. Karen at A Deaf Mom Shares Her World was denied service at Steak ‘n Shake.
What’s your suckiest non-service experience? Who deserves the “No clothes!” seal of disapproval?
Posted by Becky @
7:54 pm |
Nightmare in Norway
A Visit from St. Pukealot
‘Twas the Nightmare in Norway, and all through the house
Every creature swam in puke, even the mouse;
The stockings hung by the chimney were dry,
Only because projectile vomit couldn’t blow that high.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of anything but food danced in their heads,
After sloshing through soaked towels and sheets 3 feet deep,
We collapsed, exhausted, and hoped for some sleep.
When from the bedroom came the familiar sound,
Of at least one child horking and stumbling around.
With puke bucket and towel I rushed to the door,
To rip off the sheets and clean up the floor.
The moon and the snow … who cares about that?
I was too busy cleaning up stuff that goes splat.
It all started with one little puke in the morning,
By Daughter One — we got our first warning.
Daughter Two started screaming, we had no idea,
That our days would be filled with puke and diarrhea,
She puked at the restaurant and in the car ride home,
The rest of the day, all night and then some.
Now PUKING! now HORKING! now BLOWING YOUR COOKIES!
On VOMIT! on SPEWING! on BARFING and RETCHING!
To the top of the ceiling, to the top of the wall!
Now puke away puke away puke away all!
To the doctor she went the first and second day,
Then to the hospital two-and-a-half hours away,
She got IV fluids and fell fast asleep,
We slept on the floor in an exhausted heap.
And then, in a rumbling, while I lay on my back
The virus decided it was time to attack.
As I ran for the bathroom, and was turning around,
Up the gullet St. Pukealot came with a bound.
It came in a dash, I didn’t quite get there,
I got to the sink, hell, I didn’t care;
So, great, now we’re ALL locked in isolation,
What a sucky-ass, horrible, nasty vacation.
But, wait, it gets better, for when we got back,
Daughter One did nothing but yack, yack, yack, yack.
More puke in the bed, in her hair, on the floor,
Think that’s enough? Oh, no, hon. There’s more.
The Son joined the chorus of the vomitous pukefest,
He lost too much weight, and we still got no rest,
His face was so gaunt, and his bones stuck out,
Oh, what have we done, I wanted to shout.
Do you think, dear readers, that’s as bad as it got?
Guess what. It got worse, even worse — by a lot.
By the time we recovered, it was time to depart,
Through the Gates of Hell, er, the Oslo Airport.
Ah, I misspoke, we couldn’t leave — not just yet,
We were held hostage and put into more debt,
Because those who run Purgatory, er, “customer service,”
Wouldn’t let us on board; rules are rules, they told us.
So we dished out the dough and got home a day late,
All sick with head colds this time, isn’t that great?
Do you think I’m excited for more holiday cheer?
Bah humbug! We ain’t going nowhere next year.
Posted by Becky @
11:58 am |
Down on the farm
Posted by Becky @
10:02 pm |
Here comes the sun
Oops … there it goes.
Posted by Becky @
6:52 pm |
