Food. Cibo. Naering.

Juicy, deep red, sweet tomatoes. Fragrant bundles of wildflowers. Heaping loads of strawberries, blueberries, raspberries. The scent of sap drizzled pine cones from the surrounding trees. Nothing quite beats the Tahoe City Farmers Market in mid-July. Come June, I’m rearin’ to make my way up to Northern California, where I can sit and relax under the pine trees with a plate of freshly picked steamed baby potatoes- a delicious summer treat. For two solid months out of the year, Lake Tahoe is my home. For four weeks out of the eight, I devour fresh pickings from local farmers.

“Is it ready yet Nanna?” I ask. I can hardly stand it. The delicious scent of sweet basil and Italian brown mushrooms fill my nostrils. The spaghetti is done. The table is set. My stomach is growling. I could eat Nanna’s spaghetti and meatballs every single night for the rest of my life if it was accepted.

Today is the day I will reclaim my title as ebelskiver champion. I will down one little pancake ball after another. If Ben has eighteen, I have nineteen. Danish pillows of heaven, I call em’. Grilled fresh from Mother Maita. Syrup, butter, and ebelskiver. Nothing like a morning with the Maitas.

Aggie's

As I pass a storefront in downtown Mesa, my nose caught a certain scent. The scent was one not to be forgotten, as I traced it back home to Danville. My memories of munching on delectable pastries from the Danish Market flooded my mind. Scents of kringles and marzipan hit my nose. Flour, milk and eggs- the three must haves in a Danish treat. I was so completely caught off guard, but flourished in the moment, and took in every last almond horn aroma that I could grab. Rich and buttery flakey dough. I could simply bask in it if I was allotted enough time. The raspberry and cherry jams lingered in the air. Oh what torture.

What is this place? Who comes up with these concoctions? Surely it is not Hans Larsen himself, conjuring up these luscious treats in the back of his shop. Of course Hans did not travel from Northern California to Downtown Mesa to make these treats.

Aggies Bakery? Who is Aggie?! Aggie must be a Danish goddess. I am nearly swimming in the fragrant, yeast filled dough.

Aggies Bakery.
I’ve found a new treat.

Reading Reflections

One of my favorite essays from this course is also from the very beginning. - William Bakers section on “My Children Explain the Big Issues”. All of those short pieces were interesting to me, but the one on Feminism was my favorite. After reading his stories, and then having to write a prompt choosing one of them- it really helps when I have a title, or means to the story to write the actual story. It makes it that much more interesting when there is a purpose to reflecting, rather than just sitting down and having to reflect? I hope I explained that okay, but all I know is that his Feminism story will stay in my memory bank, and further my writing.

Throughout the whole course, another one of my favorite pieces of material is still “The American Man at Age Ten”, By Susan Orlean. I know Patel said not to write about one we have already written about, but I felt as though I could elaborate on this one much more.

It was one of our first reading assignments, and remember it so well, and believe I really got the most out of it. It was so interesting to see the life of someone else, at an age you once were as well- almost every child has had a friend like Orleans, and shared many of the same experiences. Such an excellent story. I forget which specific post it was we did, but I remember thinking back to Orleans story, and trying to recreate her use of storytelling. This is another piece that I am positive will continue to further my writing.

Brace Face

I really enjoying writing about past experiences, and thought it would be fun to bring something back from childhood. So, a middle school story was in order.

Braces. Every teenager’s worst nightmare, and a day I remember so well. I was pulled out of school at the end of second period band practice (I begged to go, yes- I was a band geek for about five years). When my mom picked me up outside the school office, she presented me with a Paul Frank t-shirt with Julius the monkey on it smiling with a mouth full of metal, which I put on immediately. Paul Frank was probably my favorite brand of clothing at the time.

I sat down in an extremely uncomfortable green leather chair- a chair I would not get out of for almost an hour and a half. I had color options for the stretchy bands, and opted for pink and blue, something I do not recommend for the first time. I would suggest grey or clear, since the hot pink and bright blue may come as shock upon first glance.

Since my mouth felt like somebody had tied fifty pounds onto each tooth, we went to Chompie’s where I enjoyed a delicious slurpable bowl of matzo ball soup. I went to bed that night with a mouth full of wax covered teeth, since my mouth was so sensitive to the metal at first. The next day at school, when I placed my lips to my trumpet mouthpiece, I could barely make a single toot. It took some getting use to learning how to play with metal bars against brass, since it basically felt like a strangers lips were attached to my face. I essentially had to learn how to play all over again. A few weeks passed, I had adapted to my new set of bling, and all was well in the world of band once again.

Cell Phone

Deleting
I am bored out of my mind at the airport. When in the heck is my plane going to be here… there is no way I can re-read this Us Weekly for the third consecutive time. There is only so much Angelina versus Jennifer I can take. So, out of complete boredom, I begin to scroll through my phonebook… WHO is Taylor Allen? WHO is Jessica Nolan? Delete. Delete. I successfully rid my cell phone of more than twenty unknown numbers dating back to high school. It felt wonderful.

Han Solo
Class had just begun, and while sitting in Psychology, diligently taking notes, I had forgotten to do one simple thing before class started… Daaa Daaah Dad ah dah… silence my stupid phone. Aside from the obvious awkward fumbling and searching for my phone amidst my cluttered bag in a dead silent 300 person class, my ringer could not have been more embarrassing. The Daa Daaah Dad ah dah is the theme song from Star Wars. Yes Harrison Ford is my weakness.

Smack.
I am quite possibly one of the biggest klutzes I know, and with that in mind, it is no surprise how I managed to not only back into a telephone poll, but break my cell phone during the same situation. I was leaving the barn for the day, and had to park in a different area because the parking lot was flooded from a previous storm. Apparently, before entering my car, I had somehow managed to forget my phone on the roof of my car (why was it on the roof of my car, I don’t know). Smack. A new rear bumper, a new cell phone.

Grazing

I am staring out onto the open pastures on the farm from this second story room. I can see Cash, a chestnut stallion, running up and down the fence line while whinnying at the mares beyond the next pasture. Cash has only one thing on his mind this spring, and tries effortlessly to puff himself up so he looks handsome for all the ladies in season. The four mares in the separated pasture are enjoying the beautiful blue sky day, feeding on the freshly irrigated grass below. They look up every once in a while and kick at the fence with excitement as Cash struts his stuff, but often return to their grazing and sun bathing.

As I soak in this beautiful scenery from the window, I cannot help but continue to think about what dinner will be like tonight with Ben and his fiancé, Ali. Ben is one of my three older brothers, and has brought Ali for my family to meet for the first time.

BANG!

Cash kicks at the separating wall, and whinnies in delight of all the attention from the neighboring mares.

What is Ali going to be like?
Will she also be covered in tattoos like Benny Boy?
Will she be friendly?
funny?
loud?
quiet?

NEEeeigh! The mares are going especially wild, also snorting in delight.

How awkward first family meetings can be.
Do you hug?
Or do you shake hands…

I think its time to bring in the ladies for the day.

Thank You

I attached the leash to Maggie’s new leather color, and left the house for our daily afternoon walk. Five days out of seven, side by side, Maggie and I walk the same route through my small Sonoran neighborhood. We see Theodore, an elderly man who also walks around the same time, with a bucket hat, and cane in hand. I say hello, and then take note of what an absolutely beautiful warm Arizona spring day it is. Maggie is in her usual deep sniffing mode with her nose buried down to the cement, and looks up every once in a while at an occasional alley-cat or two.
I know every crack in the cement along our route, and Maggie knows every barking neighborhood dog behind every wall. Which is why what hit me next, couldn’t have been more of a surprise.

THUD.

What in the hell just happened? It was awfully quiet for about five seconds, until I looked up, and was at near eye level with my fluffy red golden retriever. Maggie proceeded to lick my deeply confused face, when I finally realized I was laying face down on the sidewalk right in front of my house.

I looked up to see Keri, my roommate, watering the freshly potted flowers by our garage door. Keri explained that she had to pull the house from the other side of the house around so that it could reach, which in turn had to wrap around my Jetta. The slightly curved “U” shaped section of the hose stuck out just enough on the edge of the sidewalk to allow me to eat cement. Luckily, Keri had not seen or heard, since the sound of the water coming from the hose was so loud.

She asked why my knee was so bloody, and I just said, “Thank you”.