I'm Back!

Yes, It's been since February since I last posted but in that time so much has been going on in my life- all awesome- and I have been beyond busy. My school year was super busy as usual plus I had a steady stream of translation and web design clients right through the summer.

I did get to relax, though. I made 3 trips to Florida since the spring, plus a trip to a Dude Ranch in the Catskills, NY followed by a visit to the amazing waterfalls in Bushkill Falls. After my second trip to Florida in July, my family and I made a brief but 7 hour trip to the PA Grand Canyon. I had hoped this would hold me over until my trip out west next spring but it didn't. I also got to see the Philadelphia Eagles and the Miami Dolphins at their training camps- in the same week. For a football fan, let me tell you, this was the coolest!






In the interim, thanks to my brother-in-law, I taught myself how to use a DSLR camera as well as Photo Shop Elements and Lightroom.

I went on a few photo shoots including a fantastic one in Philly, my hometown. I also saw "Jersey Boys" on Broadway with my daughter on her birthday and had an unbelievably awesome time.


I did not abandon my culinary enjoyment, however, and cooked up stuffed artichokes, pasta e fagioli, pasta bolognese and many insalatas capreses, among other favorites. At the request of my friend Mike, I am posting my tortellini salad recipe. Note that you can substitute any pasta for the tortellini and even the most inept cook can prepare it.

This has all the ingredients of a full meal and it is quick to prepare.

Two packages of refrigerated tortellini (like Buitoni) (I like the tri color kind)
1 can black pitted olives
5 plum tomatoes- slicked then cut in quarters)
1/2 vidalia onion, diced
1 green pepper, cut in small slices
1 can of black beans
1 cucumber (peeled and cut into slices then quarters)
8 ounces of provolone cheese, cubed
1 package of Purdue cuts roasted chicken (already prepared)
1 bottle of Italian salad dressing
4 tablespoons of grated Locatelli (or a pecorino/romano blend) cheese

Cook pasta per instructions. Rinse pasta in cold water until cool.
Add other ingredients except Locatelli cheese. Blend well.
Pour bottle of Italian dressing onto salad. Mix very well and sprinkle grated cheese on top.

Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Fuzzy

Eight years ago on February 6th my youngest daughter was born. I wasn't there for her birth. I didn't get to hold her when she was born. In fact, the first time I saw her was in a photo when she was 2 weeks old. But none of that makes her any less my daughter.

My daughter, whose name at birth was coincidentally was both my grandmother's and grandfather's names, was born in Guatemala in 2001. She was given up for adoption at birth by her mother, a generous and selfless woman, and chosen by us from among three babies. She became our daughter on paper in July, but in our hearts on the day we were sent her photo.

She is an adorable, bubbly little girl who has a great memory and is a natural gymnast and soccer player. She's very petite and very determined and you can't put anything past her-- she is sharp! She's a tomboy but she is very sensitive and has a keen sense of right and wrong. She knows where she was born and how she came to be our daughter-- she has known since she could talk.

Today I not only wish my daughter a happy birthday, but I pray for her birth mother and thank her silently for choosing to give her baby a life that she herself could not give to her. She gave me a daughter and her daughter, a mother. There is no greater gift than that.

Happy Birthday Fuzz!
We love you!

The Maloik (Malocchio) or the "Evil Eye"

While not Italian in origin, many Italians believe in il malocchio (often pronounced "maloik.") Part superstition, part tradition, it is the belief in the evil eye, placed on someone when someone else is jealous or envious of the other's good luck. The malocchio then manifests itself in some sort of misfortune onto the cursed person, usually some physical ailment.

It can also be done involuntarily, like when you see a beautiful baby and you compliment the parent. That could be construed as envy and the parent must then say something like "God bless her" right after it to ward off a possible malocchio, many believing that even though the compliment may have sounded sincere, its real motive was envy. That's why my cousin made me put a red ribbon over the threshold of my new home and told me to throw salt out of all the doors- to protect us from envious people. The person who gives the evil eye is not necessarily evil, but does indeed harbour jealousy.

One can also ward it off by wearing a horn (cornuto) around the neck
or making a gesture with your hand (mano cornuta-which you may know from heavy metal concerts). It is said that Italian men wear the cornuto to protect their genitalia from the malocchio, as the curse is said to harm sperm.

I can't say that I believe or disbelieve the malocchio and I only have one indirect experience with it...

When my mom was in her twenties, she got a great job with the government. Soon after, she began getting terrible headaches that aspirin would not relieve. She suffered with them intermittently for a few weeks when it dawned on my litte Sigi grandmother what the problem was.

"Someone gave you the maloik. (malocchio).""You're crazy. Who would do that?" my mom responded, not telling her she was crazy for believing in "stregheria" or Italian witchcraft, but, rather, for thinking someone would put the curse on her. (The irony that my grandmother was a devout Catholic whose church forbids belief in witchcraft is not lost on me.)
"Who knows? You have that nice job now- someone is jealous and put it on you."
"Nobody is jealous of me."
"I want you to go see the strega down the street." The local strega, or Italian witch, was known to be capable of removing the horrible malocchio that afflicted unassuming Italians in the South Philadelphia neighborhood where they lived.
"I'm not going to the strega. Forget about it. The headaches will go away."
My grandmother never mentioned the malocchio again to my mother.

About a week after the strega conversation, my mom could not find her watch when she was getting ready for work. She asked my grandmother if she had seen it but she had not. My mom, a very organized and detail-oriented individual (you say anal, I say detail-oriented) who never misplaces anything, was disturbed by the missing watch. She looked everywhere for it and finally resigned herself to the fact that it must have slipped off to or from work. The stress only contributed to her constant headaches. (Knowing my mom like I do, I don't for a minute believe that she accepted that her watch was gone, and she probably continued to search for it for at least 24 hours more.)

A few days later my mom woke up and found her watch on her bureau. She put it on and asked my grandmother how it got there. My grandmother told her she didn't know. When she got home from work she grilled my grandmother about the watch.

"Are you sure you didn't borrow it and not put it back?"
"Bah, why do I need a watch? I don't go anywhere!"
"Did Daddy find it and put it in my room?"
"I don't think so. So... how are your headaches?"
"Funny, I didn't get one today."
My sigi grandmother smiled but did not say anything.
"Why are you smiling?"
"I took your watch to the strega since you wouldn't go yourself. She took off the malocchio."
"Mom!" she yelled
"It worked, didn't it?" My mom didn't know what to say to that. It was more troubling to her that someone had put the malocchio on her then the fact that there was a Sicilian witch living on their street who claimed to be able to both curse and remove curses.

How did the strega allegedly remove the malocchio. Probably by inserting the tip of a needle into the eye of another needle while saying: “Occhi e contro e perticelli agli occhi, crepa la invida e schiattono gli occhi." That means “Eyes against eyes and the holes of the eyes, envy cracks and eyes burst.” She then dropped the needles on top of three drops of olive oil in water and sprinkled three pinches of salt into the water. The strega would then jab scissors into the water through the oil three times and cut the air above the bowl three times and POOF! The spell was FINITO!

...or the aspirin finally kicked in.

Broken-hearted

Today my heart breaks. My aunt and godmother, Carole, died suddenly, a victim of apparent complications caused by Lyme disease. My aunt was only 68 years old and was a vivacious, vibrant, beautiful woman who loved to cook, travel and she loved her 11 grandchildren. She was a great source of support and comfort to me during a difficult time in my life and I loved talking to her and making her laugh, because she found me very entertaining. I liked that.

Today my beloved aunt gave up the fight. She died in her sleep this morning. It was unexpected, as just yesterday she seemed ok, that is, no worse than usual. If my heart is broken because my aunt is gone, it aches for my cousins and uncle as well- they have lost their mother, their children a grandmother, my uncle his love. My uncle once told me he had only a precious few years with my aunt, and it hardly seems fair that it took them so long to find each other, only to be separated so soon. Perhaps I feel saddest for my cousin John, whose baby daughter will never know her grandmother as we all knew her before she became sick.

I am conflicted as to why this wonderful woman was made to suffer for so long when other people who should have to suffer, do not. I try not to dwell on this as it will surely drive me insane if I do.

I am comforted by only two things- that my dear Mom Mom Santa was in heaven welcoming my aunt this morning, and that now freed from the broken body that imprisoned her, she is once again a vibrant, vivacious woman who will dance the Mummer's Strut on New Year's Day.

Rest in peace Aunt Carole. I love you.


Below is the link to the post I wrote on her 68th birthday.

Happy Birthday Aunt

The Dreaded Christmas Eve Tradition

The following is my Christmas Eve post from last year. Nothing has changed except that now we go to my inlaws' house and for some reason, instead of serving fish, they serve cold cuts for dinner. Odd, but not much of a problem for me.


There are fewer rituals that my family performs that I dread more than Christmas Eve dinner. It should be re-named "Torture Claudia Night." No, it's not the Christmas carols that my husband and kids and I sing to far away family and friends in operatic voices over the phone- I like that part. It's not the anticipation of seeing the kids wake up and see what "Santa" brought them the next day. It's not even the exhaustion I feel every December 24th at about 1:00 in the morning, having wrapped all the gifts when the kids finally have fallen asleep. Nope. It's CHRISTMAS EVE DINNER.

What could be so dreadful about a Christmas Eve dinner? Well, my medagon friends, a typical Italian dinner on December 24th involves a long-standing and for me, unappealling traditional meal- SEAFOOD. It's the one night a year when I, myself, wear the title of "Medagon," given to me by my parents.


I don't eat seafood. Non mi piace. It never has appealed to me, with the exception of flounder. So, the meal to which I was subjected for every year of my life until I was 33 and moved far away enough from my family to not go back on Christmas Eve, just Christmas Day, is an array of "Seven Fish(es)." This does not have to be actual fish- any seafood will do. The offending fare can include (but is not limited to) the following:
-flounder or another kind of fish (in my family it was breaded flounder, the only kind I would eat, to make me feel included and loved)
-crabmeat
-shrimp
-mussels
-clams
-lobster
-calamari (I think this appeared on the table once or twice at my grandparents house where we would spend Christmas Eve until 1986 when they moved to Florida)
-tuna (in the marinara sauce)
and the one dish that my mom opted out of making and left it to my dad and grandmother: bacala (as in dried codfish, not "Bobby."). It gets soaked a long time before preparation to remove the heavy salt taste and is served with a red sauce. You'd have to rip out my tastebuds to get it to taste good to me.


The seafood was always served with linguini (I prefer capellini, but I took what I could get) with the tuna sauce and I would get a "medagon special," a dish of linguini with melted butter and cheese. Nope, I wouldn't even eat the sauce if it had fish in it.

Now some people ask why the number seven? It's debatable- the number of days to create the universe, some say, others say the number is 13- one for each apostle plus Jesus (keep me out of THOSE houses) and my mom's version- any odd number under seven. So when I got married, I made that number become ONE. Well, I started off with 3(odd number) fish the first few years of marriage thinking my Italian/Sicilian husband would expect such a meal, but after the second year while he was eating a crab cake and I was eating linguini with marinara sauce, he said "I don't really like seafood all that much, you don't have to make it." ARGHHHHHH.

The next few years we started a new tradition of flying in the face of tradition and, allegedly, Canon Law (this proved untrue- I could find nothing that says you cannot eat meat on Christmas Eve) and going out to an Italian restaurant on Christmas Eve and ordering anything but fish. For me, that means veal. On the way home from dinner we'd sing to anyone who would answer the phone while we drove, and then swear to them that we were not drunk and neither were the children. The kids sang in celebration of Christmas. I sang in celebration of not having to eat fish.

So, go ahead, take away my Italian membership card, but before you do that, you should know that this Italian-American does not drink wine, either. Good God, a 7 fish dinner with only wine to drink- what a terrible thought. blechhhh

You Know You're Italian When...

Are you unsure of your Italian-ness? Have you been living among medagons so long that you think you may have lost your identity? Well here is a "simple" check list to prove that you are Italian.

You know you are Italian if, during your childhood, at least 30 of these things ocurred:


1.You called pasta "macaroni."

2.You spent your entire childhood thinking what you ate for lunch was pronounced "sangwich."

3.Your family dog understood Italian.

4.Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents and extended family.

5.You've experienced the phenomena of 150 people fitting into 50 square feet of yard during a family cookout.

6.You were surprised to discover the FDA recommends you eat three meals a day, not seven.

7.You thought the pig each year and having salami, capacollo, pancetta and prosciutto hanging out to dry from your shed ceiling was absolutely normal.


8.You ate pasta for dinner at least three times a week, and every Sunday.

9.You grew up thinking no fruit or vegetable had a fixed price and that the price of everything was negotiable through haggling.

10.You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.

11.You thought everyone's last name ended in a vowel.

12.You thought nylons were supposed to be worn rolled to the ankles.

13.Your Mom's main hobby is cleaning.

14.You were surprised to find out that wine was actually sold in stores.

15.You thought that everyone made their own bottled tomato sauce.


16.You never knew what to expect when you opened the margarine, after all you thought washing out and reusing margarine containers was normal.

17.You never ate meat on Christmas Eve or any Friday for that matter.

18.You ate your salad after the main course.

19.You thought Catholic was the only religion in the world.

20.Your were beaten at least once with a wooden spoon or broom.


21.You thought every meal had to be eaten with a hunk of bread in your left hand.

22.Your grandmother never threw anything away, you thought seeing washed plastic bags hanging on the clothes line was normal.

23. You dreaded taking out your lunch at school, you would pray that you didn't have melanzane again.


24.You can understand Italian but you can't speak it.

25.You have at least one relative who came over on the boat.

26.All of your uncles fought in a World War.

27.You have at least six male relatives named Tony, Frank, Joe or Louie.

28.You have relatives who aren't really your relatives.

29.You have relatives you don't speak to.

30.You drank wine before you were a teenager.

31.You relate on some level, admit it, to the Godfather and the Sopranos.

32.You grew up in a house with a yard that didn't have one patch of dirt that didn't have a flower or a vegetable growing out of it.

33.Your grandparent's furniture was as comfortable as sitting on plastic. Wait!!!! You were sitting on plastic!



34.You thought that talking loud was normal.

35.You thought sugared almonds and the Tarantella were common at all weddings.


36.You thought everyone got pinched on the cheeks and money stuffed in their pockets by their relatives.

37.Your mother is overly protective of the males in the family no matter what their age.

38.There was a crucifix in every room of the house, including the cellar.

39.Boys didn't do house work because it was women's work.

40.You couldn't date a boy without getting approval from your father. (Oh, and he had to be Italian)

41. February 14th is VALENTIMES Day

42.Your Christmas tree was silver.


43.You have at least one irrational fear or phobia that can be attributed to your mother.


44.Every condition, ailment, misfortune, memory loss and was attributed to the fact that you didn't eat something.

MMMMMMM MEATBALLS!

Meatballs. I love them- well, not just any meatballs, there are only a few people's whose I will eat. Part of that is the skeeve factor- I won't eat them in restaurants, houses where cats are allowed to roam the counters, or people who have questionable hygiene- nose pickers, ear pickers, people who rinse instead of use soap after using the bathroom. I'm not exactly a germophobe but since you make meatballs with your bare hands, you don't want to worry about the cleanliness of the chef. And I really hate picking hair out of my food. You get the idea.

I don't really have a preference as to the degree of softness of the meatballs, although my husband prefers them soft. Mine tend to be a little hard but I make them a little mushy for him.

My meatballs are delicious. I say that completely immodestly because even my fussy children stand next to me while I am cooking them to eat them right out of the pan, blowing on them so they don't burn their mouths. Plus my mom said they are good and to me, that's the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval.

So here is my recipe for meatballs.

One pound of ground triple meat mix (also called meatloaf mix- veal, pork and beef)
two eggs
two cups of cubed bread (bakery section) OR stale Italian bread, coarsely ground in blender (not too fine)
1/2 to 3/4 cup of Locatelli cheese (if you don't have that, get a pecorino/romano blend, I'm serious, the secret is in the cheese) Do not, I repeat, DO NOT BUY THE CHEESE IN THE GREEN CAN- THIS IS NOT ACTUAL CHEESE! I highly recommend you try some Locatelli if you have not tasted it- you will never go back. You can order it here right from Philly. All you have to do is grate it.
2 cloves of fresh chopped garlic OR if you are desperate and cannot get fresh garlic, use about 6 teaspoons of garlic powder (NOT garlic salt)
2 tablespoons of dried parsley
1 teaspoon of dried basil
1/2 half to 3/4 cups of water to moisten bread
1/4 tsp. of salt
1/4 tsp of black pepper
olive oil for frying




Add the water to the cubed bread, slowly, and mix it together until the bread sticks into a ball. If you use too much water the bread won't form a ball. (If you are using bread crumbs instead of cubed bread, skip this step until later)
Mix the meat with the eggs. You have to use your hands, not utensils, it's just easier.
Add the garlic, parsley, cheese, basil, salt and pepper
Mix the meat well to blend everything.
Mix the wet bread mixture with the meat thoroughly.
**If you are using bread crumbs, mix them into the meat mixture and add the water to the mixture slowly. The meat should stick together. If it falls apart, you used too much water- add more bread)


Roll the meat into balls.
Heat the olive oil until fragrant. **If the oil is not hot when you place the meatballs in the pan, the bottom of the meatballs will stick to the pan and come apart. I learned this the hard way!

Place meatballs in frying pan, don't crowd them, they need their space, and cook until the meatball is brown and the outside is a little crispy. You'll need to repeat this step two or three times unless you want to use multiple frying pans.



Again, give "Lucatell" a try. If you can't find it in your grocery store (depends on where you live- I spent 6 years without it when I lived in Lancaster, PA!!) You can order a big wedge from DiBruno Brothers, located in Philly's Italian Market and have it shipped to you. You will not be sorry!

Postscript: Avid reader Joe Gabagool wrote me to say that under no circumstances should garlic powder be used in place of fresh garlic and that anyone who would use garlic powder has no business making meatballs. I disagree with this- if you're stuck, as I have been with ground meat in a bowl and oil heating when I realized the garlic was shriveled, garlic powder can substitute fine. And to prove it, when Joe Gabagool comes ovah for dinner in a few weeks, I'll make him try both kinds of meatballs. I'll even serve them in a cup.

The Maloik (Malocchio)

While not Italian in origin, many Italians believe in il malocchio (often pronounced "maloik." Part superstition, part tradition, it is the belief in the evil eye, placed on someone when someone else is jealous or envious of their good luck. The malocchio then manifests itself in some sort of misfortune onto the cursed person.

It can also be done involuntarily, like when you see a beautiful baby and you compliment the parent. That could be construed as envy and the parent must then say something like "God bless her" right after it to ward off a possible malocchio, many believing that even though the compliment may have sounded sincere, its real motive was envy. That's why my cousin made me put a red ribbon over the threshold of my new home and told me to throw salt out of all the doors- to protect us from envious people. The person who gives the evil eye is not necessarily, but does indeed harbour jealousy.

One can also ward it off by wearing a horn (cornuto) around the neck

or making a gesture with your hand (mano cornuta)(which you may know from heavy metal concerts.) It is said that Italian men wear the cornuto to protect their genitalia form the malocchio, as the curse is said to harm sperm.

I can't say that I believe or disbelieve the malocchio and I only have one indirect experience with it...

When my mom was in her twenties, she got a great job with the government. Soon after, she began getting terrible headaches that aspirin would not relieve. She suffered with them intermittently for a few weeks when it dawned on my litte Sigi grandmother what the problem was.

"Someone gave you the maloik. (malocchio)."
"You're crazy. Who would do that?" my mom responded, not telling her she was crazy for believing in it, but, rather, for thinking someone would put the curse on her.
"Who knows? You have that nice job now- someone is jealous and put it on you."
"Nobody is jealous of me."
"I want you to go see the strega down the street."
The local strega, or witch, was known to be capable of removing the horrible malocchio.
"I'm not going to the strega. Forget about it. The headaches will go away."
My grandmother never mentioned the malocchio again to my mother.

About a week after the strega conversation, my mom could not find her watch when she was getting readsy for work. She asked my grandmother if she had seen it but she had not. My mom, a very organized and detail-oriented individual (you say anal, I say detail-oriented) who never misplaces anything, was disturbed by the missing watch. She looked everywhere for it and finally resigned herself to the fact that it must have slipped off to or from work. The stress only contributed to her constant headaches. (Knowing my mom like I do, I don't for a minute believe that she accepted that her watch was gone, and she probably continued to search for it for at least 24 hours more.)

A few days later my mom woke up and found her watch on her bureau. She put it on and asked my grandmother how it got there. My grandmother told her she didn't know.
When she got home from work she grilled my grandmother about the watch.

"Are you sure you didn't borrow it and not put it back?"
"Bah, why do I need a watch? I don't go anywhere!"
"Did Daddy find it and put it in my room."
"I don't think so. So... how are your headaches?"
"Funny, I didn't get one today?"
My sigi grandmother smiled but did not say anything.
"Why are you smiling?"
"I took your watch to the strega since you wouldn't go yourself. She took off the malocchio."
"Mom!" she yelled
"It worked, didn't it?"
My mom didn't know what to say to that. It was more troubling to her that someone had put the malocchio on her then the fact that there was a Sicilian witch living on their street who claimed to be able to both curse and remove curses.


How did the strega allegedly remove the malocchio. Probably by inserting the tip of a needle into the eye of another needle while saying: “Occhi e contro e perticelli agli occhi, crepa la invida e schiattono gli occhi." That means “Eyes against eyes and the holes of the eyes, envy cracks and eyes burst.” She then dropped the needles on top of three drops of olive oil in water and sprinkled three pinches of salt into the water. The strega would then jab scissors into the water through the oil three times and cut the air above the bowl three times and POOF! The spell was FINITO!

Word of the Day- Moondondies

Well, it's going down to 22 degrees tonight here in PA and on my way past a department store it ocurred to me that I had not bought the kids their "moondondies" for the season.

Moondondies are necessary for living here in the North. If you have to shovel snow, they are indespensable and I always make sure the kids have theirs on before they go out to play in the snow. Since we try not to rack up a $300 monthly heating bill, we keep the heat at 69 or 70 degrees at night, which for some people is still pretty high, but I can't sleep when my nose is cold. The master bedroom has a tray ceiling and the heat goes up there so it's chilly. That makes moondondies very important, if not very, very sexy.



Moondondies, if you have not figured it out yet, are long johns. I remember growing up when my parents would announce the impending cold snap just by saying "Better go put your moondondies on!" It was a while until I actually knew the correct word, and I'll admit, until tonight I was unaware of the correct spelling- mutandoni. (Moo-tahn-doan-ee)

So now my kids have their moondondies and I have unpacked mine from the attic (Cuddlduds work very nicely) so we are officially ready to freeze our coolies off. Bring it on!

Lucky Me

Yesterday my mom underwent surgery to remove an aortic abdominal anuerysm, which she came out of successfully. An anuerysm is potentially fatal; the fatality occurs when the anuerysm ruptures. If you don't remember your biology, the aorta is the largest artery in your body, and it carries oxygen-rich blood pumped out of, or away from, your heart. Your aorta runs through your chest, where it is called the thoracic aorta. When it reaches your abdomen, it is called the abdominal aorta. An anuerysm under 2 inches is monitored to see if it grows. When it gets larger, it must be removed. My mom's was 4 inches.

So I am lucky today because my mom was not taken from me because of the AAA and also because seven years ago, God also gave my dad a second chance when doctors accidentally found his AAA and removed it. He was only the 29th person in the country to undergo a new procedure to remove the anuerysm.

Others are not that lucky. Some 200,000 people in the US have an AAA and 15,000 people have a life-threatening AAA. Now I have to be monitored for one, because my chances increased with one immediate relative and now I have two.

How do you know if you have an AAA?

--A pulsing feeling in your abdomen, similar to a heartbeat
--Severe, sudden pain in your abdomen or lower back. If this is the case, your aneurysm may be about to burst. Get to a hospital immediately.


Factors that increase risk of having an AAA

--Being a man older than 60 years
--Having an immediate relative, such as a mother or brother, who has had AAA
--Having high blood pressure
--Smoking

Both of my parents smoked. My dad smoked for 21 years and my mom smoked for 55. Both quit cold turkey for health reasons- my mom quit on the day she found out about her AAA. Is it any wonder I am so rabidly anti-smoker, especially towards those I care about? No, you may not get cancer, which although it ravages the body and is painful to endure and watch someone endure, it at least allows you time to say goodbye to your loved ones. But from smoking you could get an AAA which most people have no symptoms of until it bursts, and then die immediately. That leaves your children, your family and friends no time to say goodbye to you nor you to them.

The surgery involves a stent which replaces the damaged part of the aorta. Both of my parents had an endovascular stent graft which goes through two small incisions in the groin instead of the more invasive surgery through the abdomen. Recovery is 2 to 3 days.



So with Thanksgiving a few weeks away, I have a lot to be thankful for- two parents who had good doctors who saved their lives and friends who prayed for my mom this week and who called and emailed me to check on her. I wish everyone with an AAA could recognize early symptoms or catch it by accident like my parents did (they both had other complaints when the AAA was found) and survive.

I Got the Fever

It's the second half of game 5 of the World Series, and the Phillies are up to bat. I gotta say, I got the fever- Phillies fever. I haven't had it since 1981, when they made the playoffs. (I don't want to talk about 1993.) In 1980-that's TWENTY-EIGHT years ago, I was a 7th grader who tried to stay awake for the last game against the Kansas City Royals and I fell asleep. When I heard the horns honking outside I woke up and turned on the tv and saw men jumping on each other. Two days later we were allowed to wear Philies gear over our uniforms at school and we had our own Phillies parade in the parking lot during school and I was Phillie-fied from head to toe. I even won the most spirited Phanatic award. I was so excited that my home team won- and I have been a baseball fan since 3rd grade, thanks to my grandfather, a former baseball player and Phanatic himself.



So this year I'm excited. Really excited. I have butterflies in my stomach. I told my students to wear red t-shirts tomorrow if the Phils win and we'd have a "celebration" on Friday, just to see a sea of Phillie phans in red. They feel sorry for me that it's been 28 years so they all agreed, even the Mets fans I teach feel bad for me. I actually think they just want to see me spray paint my hair red, as I promised.

Well Charlie, I'm ready. Thousands of us are ready. I wish I were there right now, it looks like an amazing time and I'd love to be a part of it. But I'll cheer from here, and I'll be hoarse tomorrow, but if they win, I'll consider it worth it.

GO PHILLIES!

Make Sure You Find Out

Don't Believe the HYPE. Check out this website before you vote:

www.neverfindout.org