Dang it, I'm bringing it back

I have not posted on this blog since 2010. OMG. I am bringing it back. Stay tuned. Life in 2018 for the Armstrongs has substantially changed by:

1. a military retirement
2. two new careers
3. a house built in one state while living in another
4. a serious illness for a close family member that forever changed us all
5. oh, and since my last post, we've lived in two additional places, but are no longer on the military circuit.
6. our small, silly round baby boy is now a tall, handsome, witty 9 year old
7. and he's also an older brother
8. by the addition of a small, fluffy haired chica named Eve. Eve-Marie. Eve-Marie Clementine. Or Evie C. as I like to call her.

It's wild ya'll (I'm back in the south, so I'm going with it).

Anna

Adventures in Cooking - Brunch edition

We love to cook. We are not quite foodies...we just like to cook and eat. Cooking is part of our adventures...we like to try new recipes, old favorites, and ethnic dishes. My absolute favorite meal usually is a breakfast brunch. On long weekends, I love to "sleep-in" [which is usually like 6:30am instead of 5:30am] and make a nice, hearty meal.

I thought I would share our Labor Day weekend brunch because it was so delicious, easy to make, and quasi-healthy. With the easy prep of a puffed pancake and a frittata, you can get it all in the oven to cook, clean up your mess, and have time to enjoy a cup of a coffee and read the paper (yeah, right... more like watch another run of Toy Story 1 or 2) while it all bakes.

I like to get the frittata started first, because it takes longer. Once you get it in the oven, start the puffed pancake and it will all be done around the same time.




Blue cheese Walnut frittata 


Who doesn't love eggs? I came across this recipe while awake before the early birds, trying to surprise them with a yummy breakfast. I had a strange assortment of ingredients and was googling away trying to find some inspiration. This really hit the spot. Of course this recipe appears in its altered format - feel free to check out the original (link is included at the bottom). I reduced the amount of cheese, added bacon and took out spinach. This is a great recipe for those of you with low-carb preferences.

1/2 cup chopped onion
4 garlic cloves, minced
a healthy dose of real bacon bits (2-3 tablespoons or more if you like bacon)
2 cups egg substitute
1 cup shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
2 plum or roma tomatoes, diced (you could use sun dried tomatoes instead for a different flavor)
1/4 cup chopped walnuts

In a large ovenproof skillet (10 or 12 inch) coated with cooking spray, cook onion and garlic over medium heat for 3 minutes or until tender. Remove from heat. 



In a large bowl, beat the egg substitute until frothy. Stir in the onion mixture, bacon, mozzarella, blue cheese, tomatoes, and nuts. Pour back in ovenproof skillet re-coated with cooking spray. Bake, uncovered, at 425° for 30 minutes or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Serves 4-6.


P.S. Here is the original recipe courtesy of Taste of Home

Puffed Pancake 
I had the idea to make this after we stayed at a B&B that served something similar. We declare this one is better and undoubtedly healthier as we substituted real butter with Smart balance (not the spread, but the one good for cooking) as well as egg substitute instead of whole eggs (makes it lighter on the fat and cholesterol=heart healthy). Sprinkle with a bit of powdered sugar and syrup if you like. With the the rise of a souffle and the texture/flavor of a Cuban flan, it is certain to be a hit (and disappear quickly). You can use apples, pears (our favorite) or whatever fruit you would like, to add a new flavor.

1 cup of fat free milk
1 cup egg substitute (equivalent of 4 large eggs)
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
2/3 cup all purpose flour (I like to use Gold Medal - higher protein makes for better baking)
4 tablespoons (or 1/2 stick) "healthy" butter option (i..e, Smart Balance, etc.)
1-2 pears or apples or peaches or whatever (go crazy) - peel (ugh), core, and thinly slice
1-2 tablespoons brown sugar
powdered sugar for sprinkling
syrup (tastes great without it)

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Whisk milk, eggs, sugar, vanilla, salt, and cinnamon in large bowl until well blended. Add flour and whisk until batter is smooth. Place butter in round glass pie pan (9 inch) or 13x9 glass baking dish (I prefer the round...prettier...because we all known our men and sons LOVE prettier breakfast). Place dish in the oven until the butter melts (about 5 minutes). Remove dish from the oven and place fruit slices in overlapping rows atop melted butter. Return to the oven and bake until fruit begins to soften slightly and butter is bubbling and beginning to brown around the edges of dish (10 minutes). Remove dish and pour batter over fruit and sprinkle with the brown sugar. Bake pancake until puffed and brown (about 20 minutes). Sprinkle with powdered sugar, if you like. Serve warm. Serves 4-6.

P.S. I hijacked this recipe from Bon Appetit, September 2002 and made it my own. Now its your turn.

Overall, it makes a great brunch and satisfies all breakfast taste buds (a bit of savory and sweet). Pairs well with a fresh glass of orange juice (or mimosa...and if you lack a bottle of champagne, a drop of white wine works just as well), hot brewed coffee, and a side of fresh fruit (blackberries, raspberries or whatever you like).

The leftovers...the best part is reheating it the next morning!

Cheers!

Anna Marie

Stop talking and start spinning...

I teach spin. The indoor cycling type of spin (not how to add an angle to something). I love teaching it. It is officially my most reliable form of employment to date. Go ahead and laugh. But I get paid to exercise...and yell at others to do it to...others who actually take their own precious time to come to my class. All joking aside, I love it. I love to teach it. It is a stress relief for me and I enjoy the camaraderie of exercising with others.

And then there is Lisa.* Lisa loves to exercise. She spends countless hours in the gym. Literally. She is there in the morning when my husband goes (5am) and still there when I go (8am). She is miserable. I am not sure why. At least it keeps her in shape. Lisa likes to tell me how to do my job and give me feedback. While I am doing it.

Example 1: In the midst of a segment of class, she loudly proclaims that the music is too slow. "There are not enough beats per minute for what we are doing right now."

Example 2: "This song is awful. We hate it. Please turn it off already. Please. Respect your elders." [Not kidding. She was serious.]

Example 3: "Why don't you do a 27. Oh, you don't know what that is? Heehee."

Example 4: "If I were teaching, I would use this song."

Example 5: "Now that was actually a good class." [read: all the others suck].

Example 6: "Is that all? Oh I prefer the hour long class. I feel like I just got going." [after 45 minute class during which you found time to catch up socially with the person next to you].

I find it annoying. I also think it is funny. I don't take it personally, but still find the need to talk about this person. Get a life. Or perhaps, go get a certification if you think you can do it better. Or maybe you don't have the cojones to get up in front of a room full of people who don't know you, don't care, and are waiting to jump on your every mistake [actually this is just you], every week, as you carefully put together a class with music that you hope will give people a great workout.

Otherwise, shut up and spin.

Yours truly,

Anna

P.S. Another thing....saying "by talking during class I am just working harder" is not good enough. Again, shut it and spin. Working your mouth is not working your body.

*The name in this post has been changed for obvious reasons.

No Boot Straps

I was listening to NPR the other week and heard someone say, "How can you tell people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, when there are no bootstraps right now?"

I have no boot straps. I've got plenty of boots - I love wearing boots. But we're talking the proverbial bootstraps here. I've been searching for them for over a year now. I have been on unemployment (and now off). I have submitted dozens of CVs and cover letters. I have been subjected to over a dozen interviews. And even more rejection emails, sometimes letters, or simply nothing at all. Still no bootstraps.

My younger sister Sarah was here visiting with my nephews a few weeks ago. She has no bootstraps either. Well, she kind of has bootstraps. The sort of in between type. You know...not really a "career" job,  but it least it puts gas in her tank. She has been looking for her bootstraps for a shorter time than I have - maybe 4 months. She is a recent graduate of undergraduate studies. I am a not so recent graduate of graduate studies. Neither one of us can seem to find these damn, illustrious boot straps.



Since I have no boot straps, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. Where can I find them? Will I recognize mine when I see them? Maybe I should just make my own? Why can't I find boot straps?? And what about those that I have found, that I thought could be mine? I didn't even get the chance to try them on and never found out why they wouldn't fit.

I am not an economist nor would I even claim to understand the intricacies of our economy. Or its failure. [Multiple arm loans, people living outside of their means, shady mortgage brokers, shady Wall Street players, greedy high-ranking employees (ahem, CEOs, COOs, over-paid government employees that need to retire (thus freeing up some boot straps), and an assortment of others).]

I am, however, a researcher. I like to study things. Observe them. Learn from them in an effort to make meaningful changes. Yes, my area of research is within public health. However, the means of obtaining data, the methodology, is universal. I even like to play a game when I meet random people...how much data can I collect from a casual conversation with someone by saying as little as possible? It helps keep my interviewing skills honed. I just practiced in the cafeteria of the Smithsonian's Natural History Museum (much to the dismay of my sister and two nephews - see the look on their faces).

We had to share a table with a woman who was eating lunch. I learned a lot about her. How she met her husband, where she grew up, how she came to work for the State Department, that she moves every two years, and never wanted to have children, likes sitting with strangers, and also, believes in destiny. I elicited this information by giving a little of my own, smiling, leaning forward, and furrowing my brow [See photo on the left. Yes, Sarah photo-documented my "interview" if you will...as a means to pass the time during which she and my nephews were bored out of their gourds. On a side note, this random stranger thought perhaps I hadn't found my bootstraps yet because the ones I had been looking at were not my destiny...merely practice to help me find the real bootstraps].

My point in all of this...perhaps my bootstraps are just this. To be an interviewer you ask? To be an interrogator? Perhaps a spy? No, silly. To document what all of us [us implying "us" jobless folks that would like a job] are experiencing. To see what is different about being unemployed [and seeking employment] in today's society. My gut tells me it is very different than in previous decades. Not to diminish the experiences of people in years past. It was most certainly a difficult time. But let's add in the Internet, email, completely web-based processes, social media, social networking, and on and on an on.

I must acknowledge that I am lucky to have it relatively easy...I know that. My quest for work is out of my desire to do something positive in the world. Not because my family is hungry. I hope I am not making light of this for people who are desperately seeking work.

So with that said.... Anyone unemployed? Want to talk? Be interviewed about your experiences? Tell me your story. I'm all ears....can't promise this will help you find your bootstraps (or mine for that matter) but perhaps it will help us reflect, learn, or at the very least, vent.

Anna Marie

Things We No Longer Miss in Norfolk

Seriously, I was thinking I might squirt some tears departing from Norfolk. I did a little, over leaving my new friends at the Y (we already miss Michelle, Cassandra, Carol, Ashley, Ms. Barbara, and on and on). However, there are many things that I will. not. miss. (shout out to the ladies from Rants from Mommyland for making the use of the period so meaningful).

1. Not having a dishwasher. Not much else I can say about that. Wait a second....Nope. I got nothing.

2. Not having really sharp knives. We are a cooking family. If you like to cook you know the importance of really sharp knives.

3. The housekeeping staff. Most people think, "wow, you had housekeeping for ten weeks? Nice!" No. The first day the crazy retired harbor chick made it clear she was nuts. I think she said this to me, "We're here to take care of the men." I don't know about you, but this made her sound like a prostitute. Take care of the men? Baaahawhawha. She also told me that they "might" remember to take out the trash. Not from our house...but the ginormous can outside of our house about twenty feet to the road. Lastly, she said if we backed up the plumbing, we would be out on the street. Right. We filed a complaint and never saw her or her gray skunk stripe again. (she looked like Stripe from the Gremlins in human form). And yes, they sometimes remembered to take out our trash. It was really hard to remember, given that they took our neighbor's bin out every week, without fail. (Our trash cans are 2 feet away from each other).

4. I will not miss getting hit on by men who are old enough to be my father on the 4th floor of the Y. Yes, I am working out as hard as you. My presence, the fact that I was friendly, and one of the few females who entered that floor does not give you the right/privilege to hit on me. And yes, I told my husband.

5. Getting stuck in underwater tunnel traffic. I'm not sure how many tunnels there are, but I swear they are everywhere. And they always involve traffic.

6. Hearing the trumpet, National Anthem, Taps, etc. at daybreak and sunset. I am patriotic. Just not every single day. And night.

7. The weird, awkward moment upon entering base when the "guy" or "gurl" (Jack's description) salutes (Jack calls it "sa-uut") us. Yes, salute my husband. He's the military officer. Not me. And why me? Is it because I married him? Is it the sticker on the car? It makes me feel funny and I am still not sure what to do back. Do I smile? Wave? Salute? Say thank-you? Jack thinks it's great. Brad said it is a "Navy thing" so no more saluting at good 'ol Fort Belvoir. Whew!

I guess these are all minor irritations - so one last hoorah for Norfolk, our new home away from home!

Anna Marie

Life. Celebrated Daily.

In our few days left, I have started to think about the last ten weeks. What will I miss? How have our lives changed because of these ten weeks? How will things change when we go back home to Springfield? Being in this crazy life, just when something starts to feel like home, you are pretty much guaranteed a change. Love it or hate it, it is our reality. It stinks when two things happen: 1) you move somewhere you hate (ahem...Montgomery) or 2) you go somewhere for a short time and fall in love with it. Tough, because we love the DC Metro area, but I have to admit, good 'ol Norfolk has grown on me.

What we will miss:
1. Blocker Norfolk YMCA. The lovely ladies of the front desk who let us in the back, joke around with Jack, and are just simply nice people. All the really cool ladies in ChildWatch, who became our friends. And the people who work out really hard on the 4th floor.
2. Weekly festivals. Norfolk's saying/motto is "Life Celebrated. Daily." They embrace this with every type of festival possible. Like I said before, we dig the festival thing. They are the cure for the common cause of boredom.
3. Walking out our front door and not having to go down (or worse, up) two flights of stairs. Yes, we are living in a two-story house. Our home is NoVA is stacked...stairs up to the front door, stairs up to the main floor, stairs to the bedrooms, more stairs to the basement. Stairs, stairs, stairs. Maybe this is why I have put on a few pounds here.
4. Being able to walk less than five minutes in any direction from our front door only to find a very cool playground.
5. Being able to drive 30 minutes (or less) to Dam Neck beach. The military super secret beach. Not really. But it is pure awesomeness. A beach that you can only access with a military I.D. Nice. An stretch of the Atlantic coastline that is oddly quiet, absent of seagulls and the sand has minimal sharp shells. Almost as nice as Fort DeSoto.
6. Going for a run in downtown Norfolk with mermaid statues, huge schooners, ships, and the historic USS Wisconsin as my scenery along the Elizabeth river.
7. It doesn't take 40 minutes to get anywhere (unlike in DC, where you plan your life around traffic patterns).
8. It makes me think of home (as in Tampa home). There is a river, a bay and an ocean (close enough to the Gulf minus the tar balls). Sorry. It's still to soon isn't it. Damn BP. Damn you.
9. We have had a crazy amount of time together as a family. It's priceless. We know this and tried to make the most of it. We are very lucky.
10. Missing that we have an almost normal routine...we actually get up, eat breakfast together, hang out a bit, drop Papa off at school, sometimes have lunch together. I am already missing this, because I know back in DC things are going to go back to a more rushed pace. Brad is sad he will go back to having about 4 hours of Jack time and about 1 hour of Anna time. Back to the real world.

We can honestly say we lived life here. And celebrated it. Daily.

Cheers Norfolk!

Anna Marie, Bradley & Jack

Super-sounds of Norfolk

Lately I have been noticing the sounds of Norfolk. It has been a bit irritating. Where we live in Northern Virginia offers a cacophony of metros, trains, freights, and traffic, so I am surprised that sound is even an issue. Daily we hear the drone of planes, the clop-clop helicopters, the air horns of Navy and commercial ships, the slow chug-chug of freight trains and on occasion the deafening roar of jets flying in formation.

One Saturday after first moving on base, we heard a loud screech followed by the crunch of metal. Of course, I ran outside with Jack on my hip (I did have shoes on) to see the cause. Our house is located right next to the gate to the outside world. Outside of this gate is a good sized ditch and a very large, busy road (Terminal Blvd). The cause of the noise...a small SUV that careened into the ditch nose first. Everyone was okay and cell phones were out and being dialed.

Being right next to Terminal Blvd., which leads directly into the Norfolk International Port, means lots of big semi-tractor trailers and trains. Just the other day, we were sitting on the front stoop doing sidewalk chalk, when I heard a noise so loud and explosive I threw myself on top of Jack. Turns out it was a semi blowing a tire (we saw said semi several seconds later, tire shredded and flapping). However, this was close to what I imagine a small bomb would sound like.

All this talk of sounds, noises, and what not led me to wonder, "Why the heck am I so sensitive to sound lately? Perhaps I do have some super-powers after all (I think I mentioned this in a previous post). Well, low and behold, Bradley has figured it out.

Let's go back a few days....let's say Monday of last week. Jack and I were sitting outside playing and I felt what I thought was a mosquito bite. I ignored it. The next day, what looked to be an innocent mosquito bite turned into a very large welt, with surrounding rings of red. It's a spider bite that kept getting bigger and uglier.

A day later, while describing to Bradley how sounds were driving me crazy lately and how I planned to blog about it, he asked me to walk over to the wall. Looking at him with what he refers to as the "skeptical Anna" face, I went to the wall. He then asked me to put a hand on the wall. I complied. He then asked me to put my other hand on the wall. I started laughing and said, "Are you checking out my butt?" He said, "No. Just keep moving your hands, kind of like you are climbing the wall."

Brad then starts singing, "Spider-pumpkin*, spider-pumpkin, does whatever a spider-pumpkin can."

I kid you not. I respond, "You're a big dork" and swat at him with my superhero hand. So much for checking out my butt. Brad has effectively explained my sensitivity to sounds as a result of my newfound superhero spidey powers. My spider bite (now ten days out) is finally starting to go away.

Shhwip ~ (this is me flinging my web to sign off).

Spider-pumpkin



*If you didn't know, Brad calls me Pumpkin more than Anna. It's a big, ongoing joke. Everyone thinks its hilarious. In retaliation, I call him Squash. Go ahead, call him Squash too.