In keeping with tradition, it’s time for the annual playlist fitting of all the turkey and tension your family can handle. This year’s list combines all the components of both food and family dysfunction with a side of past relationship awkwardness. The whole mess equals a true symbol of going home for the holidays in music form.
Here’s to not taking our issues, others, or ourselves too seriously this season. Oink oink, my good man!
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Oh, give me a home
Where the buffalo roam
The state song of Kansas is “Home on the Range.” I remember squawking it off-key at the top of my lungs as a child during school concert performances. Growing up in Leavenworth and Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas, you’re always aware of the prisons. There they are. In my child mind I knew it housed and employed people, but that was the extent. In high school my biggest problems (thankfully) were worrying if anyone thought it looked strange that my boyfriend was 6’2” and I was only 5’2” and if I could get the timing right on Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch’s ‘Good Vibrations’ for a cheerleading halftime performance. But, the prisons were there the whole time. I didn’t see what they really meant, the strange juxtaposition against Leavenworth’s charming downtown filled with historic buildings–one man’s idea of home in sharp contract with another.
Watch any military movie and some superior will shout at his enlisted soldier to shape up or he’ll be transferred to Leavenworth (meaning Ft. Leavenworth, which is the U.S. military’s only prison). Our house on post, the one I lived in from second grade until sixth, stood on a hill overlooking the back of the prison. People used to ask our family all the time if we were frightened to live there, and I don’t remember ever being scared. Even as a child I sort of thought the last place an escaped prisoner would want to be is hanging around in the same area he just tried to rid himself of.
Once we moved off post, to The Boss’s House, we were less than a mile from Leavenworth’s federal prison. Nicknamed, “The Big House,” it has housed the likes of Al Capone, Leonard Peltier, and more recently, Michael Vick.
Dahlia Lithwick wrote an amazing piece for Slate that stuck with me as it delves into topics and issues I won’t even begin to pretend I’m intelligent enough to bring up regarding the prison system in the United States. It’s incredibly well written and a must-read. I suppose I give more thought about the justice and sentencing more than the average person because of where I’m from. But, when you pass the federal prison in Leavenworth, one thing that always sticks out to me isn’t the barbed wire, or the guards, or the gates … it’s the buffalo. Some yards from the prisoner’s cages are buffalo roaming, grazing and semi-free.
Since the culture of prison is so engrained in Leavenworth’s society, it comes as no surprise that a friend of mine from my high school graduating class is tied to the prisons. Both his parents were incarcerated during pivotal moments in his life. He broke the cycle and is strong enough and man enough to speak about it today. I’m so proud to share this Q&A a longtime in the making.
Especially now with the holidays approaching it’s the age-old lesson of–it doesn’t matter where you are, someone always has it better, but we must remember those who have it worse. We decided together to keep his identity anonymous, but his story could be anyone. For me, this story is one worth hugging everyone in your life a little tighter and never allowing the past dictate the future.
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Grandma Mary keeping a close watch on four of her grandchildren.
There’s really no polite way to put this, so I’ll just come right out with it–my Grandma Mary (my paternal grandmother) was a terrible cook. Rotten. During my teenage years, my grandparents moved to the same town as us, and that meant holiday dinners at their house. Without fail, the Tuesday or so before Thanksgiving Thursday, my dad would look at his watch and declare, “Well, mom just put the green beans on the burner.” Green bean soup, we called it. And in all honestly, it was the only thing edible on the holiday table.
In her defense, there were a couple of recipes she did exceptionally well, which make me think of her memory whenever I make them. One is for caramel ice cream. It’s taken from a recipe passed down to her by her own mother, Fey, my great-grandmother known as Gram.
You might find it funny to be posting a recipe for ice cream in November. But let me tell you, you’ll think nothing of it when you’ve got a great heaping spoonful of this Salted Caramel Ice Cream sitting on top of a piping hot slice of pecan pie in a couple of weeks. No sir. The salt was my addition, as I think salt and caramel go together like ebony and ivory. Sweet harmony.
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Eric and I figured this would be a good place to write you because this city is way more than people realize and it's been one of our favorite stops.
As promised, a check in with Eric & Beth, our friends from the blog El Mundo. The first postcard proves to be a good one … Dubai, a great stop on their trip around the world.
Since in today’s tech age the physical postcard has now been altered to text messaging, here’s the abbreviated summary with photos…
فِعْل : يستمتع بـ . يَنْعَم بـ
(English translasion from Arabic–enjoy!)
Our friends Eric and Beth are traveling the world. They are currently on the road (and airplane, and boat) for the next half year (give or take). So, they’ll be popping in from time to time with trip updates and postcards of their journey. Of course I had loads of questions for them regarding a trip such as this, which made the interview quite fun.
Here’s my Q&A session with Beth just before she joined Eric on their trip. Friday, I’ll check back in with them in Dubai. Also, be sure to follow all their travels and updates on their fantastic blog, El Mundo.
