Who ate the What?

Match the letters with a number. Multiple matches may occur.

a. scrambled eggs
b. popcorn
c. boiled pasta with butter
d. fresh smelling spaghetti and meatballs leftover from ten days ago
e. girl scout cookies (one entire box of carmel delights)
f. canned garbanzo beans and frozen broccoli, sauteed in olive oil, onions, and garlic

1. the father
2. the mother
3. the sister
4. the brother
5. none of the above due to parental disagreement: odor vs. time

Average suburban family has just returned from normal spring break. Father, mother, sister, and brother are serenely smiling at you now. Mother tilts her head in satisfaction. You may calmly return the smile and offer a polite "hello." Wait a minute, stop this narrative -- where's the dog? Where's the average suburban family dog? You may now holler in panic, "Where's the DOG GONE DOG!" Calm down. There are zero dogs and two cats. (There's always got to be a rebel in the 'burbs.)

Average suburban family is indeed serenely smiling because they are over budget and under no circumstance going out again tonight. Over tired and under the weather. (Actually, just the father is that, but mostly Ok.) They've decided to eat only what they can find in their ho-hum middle class cupboards, fridge, and freezer. How can a middle class kitchen be so full of food and yet nothing to eat?

O, but there is. A feast is found in these cupboards, fridge, and freezer. And you, dear Charmer Friend, must match the above numbers with the above letters to guess who ate what. Multiple matches may occur. On such a Saturday night, why would you possibly want to do anything otherwise more meaningful than to play this extraordinary food game?

Thanks so much for coming over to the Charmer Blog. Answers tomorrow.

With love, T xoxoxoxo

P.S. Average suburban family needs a normal, ho-hum garden.

Walking in the Warmth

You know what I like about Brooklyn? Especially on a sunny 70 degree day? Elderly people. You see lots of them slowly walking about the neighborhood. You also see disabled people, baby people, Jewish people, Catholic people, Arab people, Chinese people, and at least one visitor from Iowa. People are coming out from the dark of their double and triple locked apartments.

Here, people live close to each other. They have to because there is simply no room for otherwise. You can't believe how valuable a parking space is. You could get claustrophobic. Or you could simply soak up the warmth of honest to goodness human contact with people of all sorts and sizes.

There's an unexpected gentleness in Brooklyn. Folks walk slowly. It's nice.

I still feel sad when I stand at the 69th street pier, scan New York Harbor, spot the Statue of Liberty, and miss the two towers that disappeared. I don't think buildings should be built that tall, but I still miss them.

Thanks for coming over to the Charmer Blog.

With love, T

Welcome to St. Patty's Day

Hello Charmer Friends and welcome to St. Patrick's Day. I am watching the parade in gorgeous, sunny, 5th Avenue Manhattan. From the comfort of my pajama's and a television in Brooklyn. Put it this way, we can handle about one trip to the city per spring break.

I know, I know, people do it everyday. It is very exhausting. Yesterday, Amanda and I were on a total of six trains. 6. Due to a combination of seeking the best express routes and hopping on wrong trains.

Our visit to the Met didn't work out as I had hoped, although we did make it to the lobby and I strained to peak behind the security guards for a glimpse at the magnificent Statue of David. No such luck. Next time the Met is an all day affair.

However we did make it to the Madame Tussand's Wax Museum and a 4-D showing of Sponge Bob Square Pants, thanks to the special aunt treatment. Now you know our secrets of how to enrich children with The Arts. And one little boy got the special uncle treatment, including an Irish version of a Yankee's baseball hat. (For the record, the father is a Mets fan.)

Meanwhile, Bob and I have been reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Nothing like a bleak apocalypse to make our spring break complete. Talk more about that later. It's the Woody Allen in us. (He's a famous NYC filmmaker who seemed more comfortable with depressing subjects.)

Thanks for coming over to the Charmer Blog and I hope you are all well.

With love, T

Your Very Own Brooklyn Tour

Even after all these years, I really have to gear up for the subway ride into Manhattan, aka "the city," as the locals call it. Taking the train into the city for six years was fine when I lived here, got a lot of reading done. But mostly I don't miss it. Yet many people do it for decades. Some people work in New Jersey and their daily commute from Brooklyn involves a train, bus, and boat. Not to mention the cost. This place can be a hard place to live and work.

So today as we thought about what to do, a 2-hour round subway ride held little charm for me. So we drove the car to Coney Island and shivered in the wind over Nathan's hot dogs. I'm saving up my gumption to go into the city for tomorrow which will be the big one for Amanda and me. Up and out first thing. Others will meet us midday. Thank goodness the TV show "Gossip Girl" is filmed near the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which means both my daughter and I want to go to there.

Mostly, we are enjoying family and playing with 5-year-old twins and reading and napping and wii-ing. It occurred to me today that my kids will have been to NYC too many times to count, and yet have not experienced many of the tourist sights. But hey, we're off to a good start thanks to today's scintillating driving tour which included a delicious Coney Island hot dog, ethnic neighborhoods, and old sites of their father's past life. We were going to show the kids their birthplace, Long Island College Hospital, however by that time the backseat duo were begging to end the Brooklyn tour.

"People would pay for this tour," insisted the father.

"Why?" asked the boy.

"I'll pay you to end it," suggested the girl.

Thanks much for coming over to the Charmer Blog. I hope you are all well. And I hope one day you can get a real deal tour of Brooklyn by the husband of yours truly.

With love, T

P.S. On Monday I start as communication director with the Des Moines Area Religious Council. My new commute is 8 minutes by automobile.

Jammed in Pittsburgh

When you're stuck in a traffic jam in Pittsburgh, you know you're in the wrong place.

"I knew we should have gotten you that GPS for Christmas," said Bob's brother. "But no, you said you didn't need one."

Bob's sister said that too.

But who needs a GPS when all you do is take I-80 straight across Pennsylvania? All the way. All the 8-hours across this state. West to east, no complications. There is no getting lost. Yet there we were, in Pittsburgh, which, by the way, is not on the way to New York City.

I blame it on bad entrance ramp signs in rural Pennsylvania. And the sad thing is, once you're on the wrong road, you stay on the wrong road. By the time you are able to turn around you are -- well -- in a traffic jam in Pittsburgh.

Your kids are all crammed up in the back seat with their blessed electronic diversions. By now, your 10-year-old son has watched "Meet the Fockers" three times and you've quit counting all the ways this movie is inappropriate for your child. You're just glad he's laughing out loud in the privacy of his headphones, even though you've placed him in the incorrect city, wrong state.

Besides that, spring break is swell. And I will tell you more later. Perhaps pictures too. I was trying to take a blogging moratorium, but here I am. Be assured, we're here, in Brooklyn, New York, USA.

The tea is ready so I gotta go. I hope you are all well.

With love, T xoxoxoxxo