Mr. Crane

When I was about 9 or 10 years old I used to walk home from school by myself. I would never dream of letting my boys do such a thing, but times have changed. I used to walk by the Fall River Firehouse. Mr. Crane was always sitting on this bench at that time of day. He was a gem. He was probably in his late 70's, early 80's. He had the same birthday as me. We would sit and talk everyday.

Some days we would cross the street to get a better look at a display of bottles that this lady had in her kitchen window. We would point out our favorites. Some days we walked around the block. He and I talked about a lot of things. He seemed to take me very seriously, always listening to my youthful insights with kind attention. I liked this old man a lot.

One Saturday I was just walking around my neighborhood and I saw him down the street from my house. I invited him in to meet my family. My mother had never heard of him. I could have sworn that I had said something about him. No one in my family had ever heard of him! I had been hanging out with him for well over a year but I had never mentioned it.

To Everything There is a Season.

My 8 year old son, Enzo gets up early every morning so he can read the sports pages cover to cover. He pores over them at the kitchen table. He bangs his fist. He is like a middle aged man. If a game that he really wants to see is on a Sunday afternoon, he will speak of nothing else all weekend.

On Saturday morning, after he reads the sports, he will announce that he is going to be "RNH" the following afternoon. RNH stands for "Really Not Here". Fabio coined the phrase a few years ago. He says it whenever he needs to get stuff done around the house without being disturbed,and he is RNH when there is a big game on TV.

On Sunday afternoons, while Owen plays at the neighbors or just outside,Enzo will sit in front of the TV. I only see him during commercials. I have healthy 3 minute snacks for him waiting in the kitchen. No more eating in the TV room. If it is dinnertime, I will turn the game on in the kitchen. Thank God he's not a fat kid.

The weather has been too cold to do much of anything except stay home. Soon Enzo will need to end this little obsession and start playing outside. Summer will be better, so I indulge him now. It gets dark at 4, what are you going to do?

I let him watch all of the Super Bowl even though it was past his bed time. He fell asleep in the middle but woke up for the exciting finish. He wanted the Steelers so he was happy. I don't follow football but his enthusiasm overwhelmed me and I was screaming for the Steelers too.

During the Pro Bowl, Enzo explained to me in agonizing detail the differences between it and a regular season game. In the Pro bowl there is no blitzing,a coach cannot challenge, they can't replay and intentional grounding is allowed. Do you know how much they make mom? The winning team gets $45,000 and the losers get $22,500. To split? I just said that to make him laugh, he can be so serious.

He is now counting down the days, hours and minutes until pitchers and catchers report for Spring Training. Baseball is something I can get into with him. I love the Red Sox and so does he. Owen, or O contraire as we like to call him, likes the Yankees. I live in a house divided. A Tale of Two Cities. Owen is just doing this to bug us. It started in 3rd grade in a mad fit to impress a girl who won't give him the time of day in 4th, and now I think he feels stuck.

It doesn't help that we have a picture of him as a baby in full Yankee attire. It was a joke. I don't even know why I allowed it. We were living in Hawaii at the time so it didn't seem so evil. Fabio grew up in Westport, Connecticut and had been a life long Yankee fan until we met. In fact, it is sort of how we met.

I was sitting on a cooler at a party and Fabio wanted something that was in it. He asked me to move. I said, "Oh, am I sitting on the cooler?" I guess I didn't pronounce my "r" in cooler. He said, "Where are you from?" I said "Boston" (close enough). The very next thing he said to me was, "So what do you think of Bill Buckner?" This was 1996 , we hadn't won the World Series yet, unless you were counting 1918. Was he really bringing up 1986? I got up and gave him a hateful stare. I said, "I have to go." I was trying to be funny but the pain was real.

I really did have to go. I was supposed to pick my niece up at the airport and if I hadn't left then I would have been late. I left the party. Fabio found the hostess, my old friend from grade school,and said, "I have got to get that girl's number." He called me and we have been together ever since. Spent a romantic honeymoon in Cooperstown, NY if you know what I mean. We are perfect for each other.

I must point out that Fabio became a Red Sox fan BEFORE they won the World Series. How can you not root for the home team when you live in it? I will ask Owen.

Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Owen, his dad threw loyalty out the window for a girl too.

My New Clog

I had such a nice soup party about two weeks ago.Three families came over. I served Roasted Corn and Butternut Squash Soup (with some diced roasted red peppers). I also made an amazing white chili (I am going to end this post with that recipe-it is that good) and an involved minestrone. My boys had Progresso Chicken Noodle out of a can. Do you believe that?

The white chili went,there was nothing left. I had 2 tupperware containers filled with the other two soups. I put them in the mudroom which is a little colder than our refrigerator but not quite freezing. I forgot about them for two weeks. I would have loved them too. I can't believe I did that. It was because the boys weren't bugging me for them.

I finally got around to cleaning the mudroom. I am slowly working my way around the house. I have brought 6 huge boxes to Goodwill in the past two weeks. I saw the soup and figured drat it is off. I guess I am fooled by how modern our kitchen looks. I assumed I could use the disposal to dispose of the soup. So I did. It went down , I let it run, I ran the water. Everything seemed fine.

The next morning I went to switch the laundry that is directly below my kitchen sink. Both my basement basins were filled with water and soup. Apparently, our pipes are not modern at all.

I called Fabio, I tried to sound calm. He took the news well, as well as he could. He told me to pour 2 capfuls of this heavy duty stuff down the kitchen drain. If that didn't work in a day or two (he gave me a dosing schedule, it was 2 capfuls every 12 hours),I was to stick my arm in that mess and plug up one side with a rag and try to plunge the other side.

Of all days. Minutes before I saw this nightmare scenario playing out in front of me I had stripped all three beds. I was planning a marathon laundry day. I literally tripped over a mound of bed sheets as I spotted this avoidable disaster.

Fabio pulled up my blog entitled Help Wanted and read the third paragraph aloud to me over the phone. He repeated the last 3 lines just for fun.He was right. I didn't listen. He had told me that the pipes were old and not to use the garbage disposal for anything more than a stray crumb. I swear, I usually don't. I don't know what I was thinking. To hear Fabio tell it, it was as if I wasn't thinking at all.

It cost $365.00 to repair, but if anything happens in the next 5 years we are preferred customers. I actually woke poor Fabio up at 5 AM (he asked me to) when Mr. Rooter arrived at my door. I needed to know which credit card to use, and so on. I am telling you, I am like a new born baby when it comes to managing crisis. Before I married Fabio I was a serial live in nanny. I always had my own apartment and cars but nothing was ever in my name.

My 5 AM Fabio was positively Zen about everything, even when I tackled him with the grand total. I think it is because my birthday is coming up and he will not only miss that he will also miss St. Valentine's Day. Did I mention that it is snowing again and the kids are probably going to be dismissed early. I won't even get into my tub full of dishes.


White Chili (from the kitchen of Rosemary Liu)
INGREDIENTS
1 lb. small white beans
6 cups of chicken broth (although I use a lot more as it cooks down)
1 chicken bouillon cube
2 tsp. garlic powder
2 to 4 tsp. cumin
2 tsp. oregano
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
2 medium onions chopped and sauteed in 1 T oil until transparent
12 oz. chopped Ortega chilies (1 large and 1 small can)
1 whole (oven roasted) chicken, shredded
2 cups sour cream
3 cups grated jack cheese

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Soak the beans over night, discard water.
2. Add beans to chicken broth, bouillon, spices, onions and chilies.
3. Simmer 2 to 3 hours (I go for longer and that's where I add more broth, so watch it).
4. Add chicken, sour cream and cheese.
5. Serve with cilantro and olives.

This is the best chili I have ever had in my life. This chili never saw my drainpipes.