The meaning of the “Care Package” to those that serve…
As most of you know, and for those that don’t know, I’m a vet of the USAF…proudly served my country during Desert Storm as an Air Defense Controller, but that’s a whole other Oprah. I endured a lot during those few years overseas – a lot of ups and downs with my comrades, colleagues and “family”.
Some of the things that I most enjoyed, outside of the travel, the different cultures and cuisines of other countries, were the care packages from home.
While I was stationed at my first duty station – NAS Keflavik, Iceland – I shared a dormitory with the 960 AWACS crews – so basically I lived with about 300 (only 8 other women in total) aircraft mechanics, crew chiefs, flight ops guys and a few other fancy technical types….with this many people in one living arrangement, someone was bound to have a birthday….that is to say that, boxes from home would arrive sometimes a few times a week, housing socks, underwear (THANKS MOM), other toiletries and 99% of the time, some type of baked good OR prepackaged treat from home. We were in HEAVEN…And during the holidays, at least once a day, someone would run into the Dayroom, ripping open a box, stuffed to the brim with potato chips, confections and goodies from the good ol’ US of A.
Just to give you an idea what it’s like to be stationed on what is considered a Remote Duty Station, as is a lot of the APO’s/FPO’s that are in the Middle East and Afghanistan, let me explain a few things to you….
We actually had a ration card that we had to carry and use at the PX/BX for “luxury” type items such as liquor, beer and the likes. Most people would barter or pay for rations that they hadn’t used by the end of the month. Funny stories ensue with these scenarios – trust me.
Fresh produce was only shipped in once a week for our base supplies…and with the number of active duty members on base….this didn’t always last….so we ate a lot of weird and wonderous combinations whether cooked in the dorms or at the base chow hall – which by the way, was run by Icelandic cooks. Because I worked with the F-15 Fighter Interception Squadron, I would sometimes sneak out to the FIS and eat at a normal chow hall – (read: USAF chow hall, specifically for the pilots) – always a treat, in more ways than one. You could nosh over great, hot food and recount that days scramble and intercept with the guys you talked to daily over the radio.
We didn’t have the luxury to have a lot of American type snacks – the comforts of home, so to speak – all the time either. You *could* buy these things in Reykjavik – however, you’d pay dearly for anything snack-like. A friend of mine paid $10.00 for a pack of M&M’s once off base….true story.
Again, if that weekly supply plane couldn’t get through due to weather, well, you were eating what you could for the time being….
Having said that – we always had food – it wasn’t that we were destitute or without….but just without the creature comforts of home. And you don’t always realize how much you love your crunchy Cheetos until you can’t get your hands on them.
The Marines – who usually don’t socialize so well in all situations (mix with booze, fueled by competition and really truly an elite group) – had their own little gig that would serve grilled cheese sandwiches, chili, burgers and the likes in their dorm – basement of their barracks. Great cheap, drunk food if you felt like you could deal with the jarheads for a few hours. Always comical.
The USO had a fish fry every Friday night – cheap plate of local fried Icelandic þorskur (Cod) and all the trimmings, which probably was tinned coleslaw that even my Grandpa Flood had eaten in the late 50′s while he was stationed there. And if I wasn’t working a 12-14 hour midshift, I would usually hit the USO.
But nothing says home more than brownies, cookies and the likes…it really does make you feel like you’re experiencing home, even if just for a few minutes, you can close your eyes and pretend you’re at your local church bake sale or school’s cake walk….you can almost smell it being baked….and you can definitely taste home, even if it is someone else’s family fudge or chocolate chip cookies. Until, you’re called into action for something nutso on base…and you’re back in the thick of it.
This happened at every single duty station and I can tell you….it is SO APPRECIATED…I don’t think you can ever know how hard some days are out there, when a lot of times all you see is destruction and sadness.
Having said that, PLEASE, join in for a HUGE cause for JUST THAT….Valentines For Soldiers – January 16th, 6:00-9:00 PM
A friend of mine and highly notable food blogger, Nishta Mehra, began this as a smaller scaled project about 5 years ago and I can’t tell you how much it means to me personally, as I know how much it will mean to all the soldiers receiving these care packages. The goodies are a huge treat, but the little hand made notes and valentines, I can assure you, will put more than one smile on someone’s face that day….
With a $10 donation, you can join in to craft Valentines, sample treats from a pay-what-you-can bake sale, enjoy locally-brewed beer, and take a Saint Arnold souvenir glass home!
If you’d like to participate - PLEASE check out this link for more information….you can stop by St. Arnold’s Brewery on Monday, January 16th to participate in the bake sale, making valentines, dropping off goodies/non-perishables….this is all for a GREAT cause. All unused proceeds will also be donated to the Wounded Warrior Project.
p.s. One day, I’d like to explain how I smuggled 6 dozen, partial cooked Quarter Pounders & Big Macs into country in my luggage to share with my comrades…
Please Note: I joke about the other branches of service, but I would stand up for every single man and woman that I served alongside….period.
The Help….
Hello, hello everyone….
Yes, I know it’s been a LOOOOOOONG time since my last post…I apologize but my life has been absolutely insane….another post for another day to fill you in.
I have been reading a lot in my down time as a way to chill and I felt absolutely compelled to share my current find – The Help by Kathryn Stockett – set in Jackson, Mississippi in the early ’60′s. The narrative is basically 3 women, 2 african american and 1 caucasian and how they relate to one another as women as well as the help vs. employer.
It is a wonderfully touching read – funny, informative, eye opening….check it out. I highly recommend it.
There is more though….it leads me to relate a story about my life and how racial tensions have affected my family.
Years ago, my father, a former Golden Gloves boxing champ, trained a young black man Harvey “Candyman” Wilson….Candyman actually came and stayed with me when I was a wee tyke….probably about a year old.
In one of our various moves, cross country – my father packed up, headed to his new town to set up shop, leaving my mother behind to pack up the household and drive cross country to meet him. During this time, my family decided to help Candyman get back to his native Ohio on the same trip.
According to my mother, we packed up the car and headed east….where we, of course stopped along the way, to eat and sleep.
Somewhere in the deep south, we took a break from the road to stop at a diner….my mother, with two little girls in tow, walked into said diner accompanied by a very large, well built black man….and you can imagine the reactions of the patrons and staff.
My mother was told that they would not “serve her kind….” denying us to sit down and eat lunch.
We were turned away and just continued on to Columbus, stopping for fast food and places we didn’t have to go into…
This blows me away….absolute and utter ignorance.
I hadn’t thought about this story in years until I began reading The Help – all the trials and tribulations as it related to segregation.
What a long way we’ve come….
Mangalitsa Lard Red Velvet Cupcakes
You know we’ve been hearing a lot about bacon, as of late, even on our lil’ ol’ blog…but it was not until this trip had I ever heard of the coveted Mangalitsa pigs.
According to the Mosefund website, this is what it’s all about:
Mangalitsa is a breed developed during the Austro-Hungarian Empire for its exquisite flavor. Originally only the Hapsburg royal family was allowed to eat Mangalitsa. They have long curly hair from dark black to blond, imagine a mad genetics’s cross between a sheep and a pig. Mangalitsa are descendents of wild boars and genetically related to the black-footed Iberian pigs of Spain. But while they may not be the prettiest pigs you’ve ever seen, they’re the tastiest you’ll ever eat. Mangalitsa were bred especially for their delicious and clean-tasting lard. The meat is dark, deeply flavorful, marbled with fat and more akin to a fine cut of beef than “the other white meat” pork. And they are unique. The breed nearly died out during the Soviet era. Were it not for the presevation efforts of farmers in Eastern Europe who revived the breed from a surviving 200 pure breds to around 50,000 today, the world would have lost this delicious meat.
I was approached by Morgan F. Weber, founder of Revival Meats out of Yoakum, TX. to create one of his favorite cakes, Red Velvet, utilizing the Mangalitsa lard. I thought, ‘Why the heck not? I made Red Velvet cupcakes made with rendered bacon fat and chocolate covered bacon for the Houston Chowhound Pork Belly Throwdown (pics and nice blurb courtesy of Rachel Markow)…sure…’
I received the lard when I made my weekly delivery to Tuscany Coffee – I had to nearly fight off everyone in my circle of friends that evening, after delivering cupcakes to 13 Celsius – a local wine bar, near downtown Houston. Laying my ziploc bag o’ lard on the bar…showing it off, taunting my colleagues.
Because I only had 8 oz. I had to use it sparingly – since Morgan had requested the lard in the cake as well as the icing…so here are a few pics to show off the details…
You can check out some of Anne’s cool Houston food photos here…
When is young…too young?
I heard on a local sportscast yesterday during halftime, that there is a young kid of the tender age of 13 that has been/is being recruited for the 2015 Football team as a quarterback.
THIRTEEN, folks….
His name is David Sills and he is from Bear, DE.
Here is a youtube video of his work…you decide:
I’m not a huge college football fan, but I thought this was pretty interesting…
How Michael Jackson saved my life…
Oh…and also got me kicked out of Health Ed class in High School…but you’ll have to read on to see how.
Just a little antecdote for Wednesday morning.
I absolutely have adored Michael Jackson since I can remember…seriously. My folks took a girlfriend of mine & I to Jacksonville (how fitting, eh), Florida for a “business trip”…and surprised us that night at dinner with tickets to the Jackson’s Victory Tour in July 1984, just days before my 13th birthday. Heidi and I screamed at the top of our lungs, probably to the shreiking heights of Twilight Mania…no lie. My father enjoyed it just as much as we did…and for years, attempted (embarrasing the crap out of me) the Moonwalk.
I remember seeing Thriller for the first time and thinking that had to be one of the coolest videos ever done…well, besides Duran Duran’s Rio.
There were SO many jams through the years that I cried, sang, danced, skated, kissed, drove to…MJ was always prevelant during my formative years in the ’80′s. For sure.
Fast forward to Heritage High School…1st floor, Mr. Griebel’s Health Ed class, fall of 1988. Sitting bored, staring longingly at one of the varsity outside linebackers…hearing the “wah, wah, wah…” of Mr. Griebel discussing CPR.
Since I had been riding horses competitively for several years by this point, and we were always put through training classes on injuries, etc. I was completely unaware that we would actually be called up in front of the class to administer CPR to the dummy on the table.
Daydreaming about Mr. Football player…I hear my name a few times, bringing things back into focus. Being a bit shy and leader among nerds, I was MORTIFIED that I was being asked to do the steps. Do you remember how it goes?
- Call out the name of the victim trying to get a response (in this case, we were using a naked dummy named Resusci®-Anne) – Call for 911
- Tilt the head back to open the Airway – feel for breath, look to see if chest is rising
- Breathe for the victim (pinch nose, place mouth firmly over mouth of victim and blow)
- Find area below sternum, and take both hands to pump (or aid circulation) to the chest area
- Check airway again – if not breathing, repeat steps until help arrives
Okay, so this may not be exactly how they do it these days…but this is from memory.
So…in all of my embarrasment, I slinked up to the front of the room, looked around at my peers – who sat as interested in this as Spicolli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. I cleared my throat nervously, wondering if I would possibly DIE RIGHT THERE
I decided to not only ask if the dummy was okay, I decided it would be better to SING to her in the vein of Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal – “Annie, Annie are you okay, are you okay Annie…you’ve been struck by…you’ve been hit by a smoooooooooooooooth criminal…”
The class roared with laughter and I was immediately sent out of the room.
I think of this moment from time to time, especially when the original song comes on…not the Alien Ant Farm remake.
The history of Mr. G & I…
Mr. G. will prolly kill me for posting these pics, but well…I live on the edge, what can I say?
Some people ask questions about how Mr. G. and I met…what our “story” is/was…it all started out in an English Pub in May of 1995. So the story goes…

When we first met...1995
We hit it off immediately and I found him to be sweet and easy to talk with and even though he is pretty reserved, the boy certainly had some strong opinions on things. I kinda like that about a person, so well…we became close friends.
Always dating others, yet running into one another here and there, we always had a great time together. Talking, laughing, getting away from it all…kinda sounds like an affair, yet it was always very platonic. The shot above was taken 6 months after we met in 1995…that seems like a lifetime ago.
Fast forward several years – the guy I had been dating, moved back to Ireland…I was working a lot, doing my thing and Tropical Storm Allison hit Houston in June of 2001. I lost my car in that storm, and for some strange reason, I called Gary to come help me out…I didn’t even have a phone number for the guy, just knew where he worked and called him. He showed up at my doorstep as soon as he could. And from that moment on, literally, we started dating…

One month before we began dating...look pretty cozy, eh?

Our first "official" date at the Rainbow Lodge 2001
We rented a house together that fall…We sat in horror in that first house on Barwood, watching as the World Trade Center crumbled to ground…we’ve been through our ups and downs, the rough patches, the good times. We’ve laughed and cried, and told secrets that no one will ever know.
In 2004, we decided to take a break from one another…but when my Dad died, he truly was one of two people who was really there for me. I was so thankful to have them in my life through such a tough time.
The one thing you can count on with Mr. G., being the engineer that he is, he never sugar coats it…so all the people that would tell me “Oh, it will get better…blah, blah, blah” kind of fell away. He didn’t feed me the lines, he was just simply there.
I decided to take off to Los Angeles…thinking the change of scenery would do me some good…and through the years I was out there, we flew back and forth and I realized that my home and heart was truly in Texas.
Was only home for about 5 months and we decided to get married…quietly, no fuss, no muss on a deserted beach in Galveston, TX just after Hurricane Ike had torn through…we stood on the beach, with a few of our friends and their children and sealed the deal, so to speak!

After the ceremony - Galveston, TX - November 2008
We celebrated our one year anniversary a month ago…I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to share with the World my true adoration for the man I love so much…I am thankful for him every day…He centers me, he believes in me, he supports me and he means the World to me!!! And he is and will always be my Michigan J. Frog!!!
Strangely enough, growing up…I remember laying on my bedroom floor with my Smiths albums…fondly singing one song in particular, never realizing that 23 years later it would kinda come to fruition. (He is from Birkenhead, however he is NOT tattooed)
What she read
All heady books
She’d sit and prophesize
(It took a tattooed boy from Birkenhead
To really really open her eyes)
Depeche Mode revisited
I know, I know – I ALWAYS say that I’m stuck in the 80′s and well, fact of the matter is…I am.
Out of sheer chaos in my life, I have not had many chances to do much besides get backstage at U2 and see my fave band of all times, Depeche Mode, upclose and personal this year!!! So not too shabby for not being able to get out, unless food related. Even Tiesto came to Houston a few weeks ago – you know how much I love that Dutch Dreamboat, but cakes trump raves.
Anyhow, the DM show was held at the Cynthia Mitchell Woods Pavillion – beautiful night for it. Dave Gahan, Martin Gore and the rest of the band come onstage with a vengencence and a power to be reckoned with. It blew me away. I danced and sang, and for a split moment in my hectic life, I was 15, 16, 18, 19 all over again. Every single song brought me back. It was awesome.
Here is the set list – they did a great job and I would liked to have listened til the sun came up…
Set List
?
In Chains
Wrong
Hole to Feed
Walking In My Shoes
It’s No Good
A Question of Time
Precious
Fly on the Windscreen
Little Soul
Home
Miles Away/The Truth Is
Policy of Truth
In Your Room
I Feel You
Enjoy the Silence
Never Let Me Down Again
Encore
?
A Question of Lust
Stripped
Behind the Wheel
Personal Jesus
Waiting for the Night
Happy Birthday to my fave sister…
Well, only sister…Robin.
She is the epitome of coolness and always has been.
Due to our age difference of 9 years, my sister and I have not always seen eye to eye…I guess basically when I came along, she was almost like a built in babysitter…and well, I was pretty much a terror.
I actually remember, at the age of about 5, sitting on huge, overstuffed bunny, behind my bedroom door at our house in the Keys – waiting to prey on her.
She also states that at this house, I stabbed her in the leg with a fork at the dinner table. Probably did, especially if it had ANYTHING to do with food on my plate. Just ask Michelle.
Also, I throw a huge hissy fit in that same house, because she was all gussied up to go to her Homecoming. What a brat, you’re probably thinking. Guess I kinda was. I was just a little jealous of how pretty she looked!!!
She saved me from myself many a time through the years…from keeping me from getting my ass kicked at the busstop after school to later dramas & traumas, breakups and heartaches…and for this, I am forever grateful.
My sister was always the coolest. When we were younger, she had bleach blonde hair and mirrored sunglasses. She wore short shorts and tight tops and drove a fast, souped up car (which she could take apart and fix herself). As we got older, and we both settled in to adulthood – I got to know her more than the image I had created in my head. She is smart, funny, whimsical, quirky, weird in a good way, one of the most well read people I know and a killer friend.
I love my sis more than anyone in the World.
Make it the best day EVER Rob…xxx
Beaver’s Vegan Dinner Tonight
Hey everyone…wanted to throw up the link for the sold out Vegan Dinner tonight at Beaver’s Ice House
So excited!!!
Check this out…it is a pretty wicked menu
I’ll be sure to post pics soon
Phone Photography by Joel Grey
How many times have you been somewhere in the last 3-4 years and whipped out your phone to use as a camera?
I, myself, do it all the time…and I’ve gotten some real interesting shots of people and things that I normally wouldn’t be able to capture ‘cos I didn’t have my real camera.
Joel Grey, 77, best known for his Tony- and Oscar-winning performance in “Cabaret” has also used his phone to catch moments that would otherwise pass him by…he has been quoted as saying, “The thing about the phone is that it’s always with you.”
He used his Nokia 133, with a 1.3 megapixel camera to shoot for about a year, as he travelled, catching scenes like the one below. He collaborated with Sam Shahid and came up with the book, 1.3: Images From My Phone (Powerhouse Books, 120 pp. $29.95)
Check out his website here.
And his Flickr photostream

















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