Klaus and Otto share the couch in our back room. The two of them never sat or laid down together until recently.
***This is the perfect title for this blog post. Please click on the link to read my friend Jon Katz’s Bedlam Farm Journal blog post before reading ahead. I am the friend in the post.
Jon’s blog post says everything I can’t right now. Jon is a dog expert, all you have to do is go to your local library, and you’ll find dozens of books he has written.
Jon is a famous writer, journalist, photographer, and former CBS morning news producer. Hell, HBO even made a movie about him with Jeff Bridges playing Jon.
His blog is a joy to read and to follow what’s happening on Bedlam Farm. You will love his wife, farm animals, and dogs. I’ve been reading his blog everyday for 5 years and look forward to his posts.
Today, I am super sad. I’ve been alone and have felt down all day. Marty and Sam are still up in the Burlington area. I’ve had time to digest what’s making me sad; Sam and Otto will leave for good shortly.
I felt sad when both of my sons moved out of Arlington for school and work. Luckily for me, Noah moved back from Connecticut, and his place is only a mile from here, and he often visits, usually to have dinner with us. Nothing makes me happier than cooking for people I love.
The thing is, I’ve never had an animal die before. After nine years of caring, nurturing, and always having him by my side, I am heartbroken. We’ve decided to cancel the vet visit we had scheduled for him.
Otto is traumatized by thunderstorms, fireworks, and wind. He freaks out when the power goes out and going to the vet. We have to give him drugs for most of these things since he is scared to death.
We respect that he is frightened of things and try to comfort him during storms and fireworks, but going to the vet is tough on him; that’s why we decided not to put him through that and a bunch of testing.
Whenever I look down, my boy is right there.
We are helping and caring for Otto since he can no longer hop on the bed or couch. We’ve made him comfy beds upstairs and downstairs. The stairs are getting harder, but he can still go up and down. He is still eating, drinking, and having no problem going outside to go potty.
Our boys never used the dog beds we got for them, until now. We put them together and covered it in his favorite blanket. Klaus likes it too. He’s been nicer to Otto in the last couple of weeks and not a dick.
I went back to making his food like when he was a puppy. He has lost a lot of weight and muscle. It happened quickly; I wasn’t ready for it since he seemed and looked healthy all summer. His coat was so shiny.
I know I’ll get to see Sam after he leaves since it’s only about 2 1/2 hours to Burlington. I won’t get to see my boy Otto again when he goes; this is terrible timing, with both things happening simultaneously. Death doesn’t give a shit about poor timing.
Thinking about the timing of death, is there ever a good time for a pet or someone you love to die? This is much harder than I thought it would be. I am a strong person and have been through a lot with human beings and will make it through this too.
Thanks for reading. Writing about what’s going on, both good and bad, helps me put things into perspective. My biggest fear is being the person who finds him dead and no one else is home.
Talking about it with my friend Maria the other night helped. She said I could call her if something like that happens and I am alone, she would be right over. I find comfort in that.
Everyone has their ideas when it comes to comfort food. I have several, but one of them I had a big craving for today.
When I was little growing up in New Jersey, I used to go to many diners with my mother, Aunt Claire, and Nana.
Two diners, in particular, stand out in my memory, The Linden House Diner and the Bayway Diner. We often went to lunch there when running errands with Nana or taking her to a doctor’s appointment.
I loved going to the diner! I never even had to open a menu because I knew what I wanted. It was on the children’s menu and was also on the regular menu in the deluxe form.
99% of the time, I ordered a pizza burger, and fries. When I got older, I ordered the pizza burger deluxe, which also came with coleslaw, a pickle, and fries.
This was me at 6.
We always sat in a booth with me next to the window. I kept myself entertained after we ordered our food by making faces in the mirror on the side of the jukebox at the table.
I would ask for a quarter to play a song, but that didn’t happen. When the waitress brought us our drinks, I would look at the placemat, the same one I’d seen a hundred times, but every time we went, I was able to read more about the businesses sponsoring the placemats.
My hair was always set in rollers for bolognie curls, which I hated. I didn’t let it stop me from playing outside, though. I wonder where I was going, all dressed up.
I would blow bubbles in my chocolate milk as I read the placemat. I loved to see how high I could get them to go without bubbling over the side of the glass.
I never got to that point because it was always when my mother would scold me, “stop playing with your food!” “It’s a drink,” I would explain to her. That’s when she would grab my hand under the table and crush it until the bones ground together.
My grandmother was blind and listened to conversations around our table while my mother chain-smoked until our food came.
Nana knew what was on her plate and where like telling time on a clock. The fish is at twelve o’clock, the potato is at three, and the vegetable is at seven. I liked being the one to tell her about her lunch “time.”
At 5 years old, on Halloween with Mema. She was my favorite person ever. I loved spending time with her. I posted these because they are the age I was in this piece. I love these old photos because I can tell by the smile on my face how happy I was on my favorite day of the year. It still is!
When my pizza burger was put in front of me, I smelled it first. It smelled so good! Then, I would pick it up and start eating it around the edges. Sam smells his food like I do. We smell everything, come to think of it, especially clothing straight out of the dryer. The bleach smell is our favorite!
I guess turning my burger around in a circle after every bite wasn’t considered playing with my food. I ate it like this to get every bit of sauce and melted mozzarella cheese oozing out the sides. Clever for a 5 or 6-year-old!
Next, I would start working on one of my favorite things in the world, the fries. I still love fries today and would always choose them over any other starch. I love all kinds, especially bowling alley fries, which are greasy, golden brown, crinkle-cut sticks of deliciousness. Crispy outside and like mashed potatoes on the inside.
I am usually a giving and generous person until it comes to my fries. Whenever someone doesn’t order their own and thinks they can pick some off my plate, they are wrong; very wrong. I share my fries with no one, ask Marty.
Back at the diner, when I dipped my fries in the marinara sauce that was on the plate, I would run them through, pretending it was machinery driving through mud or something. I stopped quickly whenever my mother looked over at me because this was considered playing with my food. One hand crushing was all I could take. Lol.
Today, I had some leftover “sauce” and made myself a pizza burger before belly dancing. It came out perfectly, and so did the fries. I didn’t have coleslaw or good pickles, so it wasn’t a deluxe version.
I ate alone since Marty and Sam were on their way to Burlington, VT, to start to move Sam into his new home. During this trip, they are working on some repairs that need to be done and moving out the old furniture and in with Sam’s brand new stuff he bought. They won’t be back until tomorrow night.
This afternoon, I automatically started eating my pizza burger in a circle like when I was little. One night when visiting my biological mother, we ate in a diner. I ordered a pizza burger on a plate with coleslaw.
The diner didn’t have a gluten-free bun, and their fries were fried in the same fryer where wheat items are also cooked, contaminating the oil, so I only could have coleslaw.
To my surprise, my mother also ordered a pizza burger deluxe. She said it was funny that we both ordered the same thing and loved them! This kind of stuff was and still is fascinating to me.
This also happened the first time we met in person several years ago. We went to an Irish pub to have a drink before dinner. We walked into the pub and realized that we both preferred to sit at the corner of the bar. That amazed me because I’ve never experienced this kind of stuff before.
I immediately went to the restroom, and she ordered a drink while I was gone. When I came out, the bartender asked me what I wanted, and I told him Captain Morgan and Gingerale. That was the same drink that she had ordered. Holy shit!
Another thing I want to mention about pizza burgers is while they are popular in Jersey and downstate NY diners, no one up here has ever heard of them.
Years ago, we ate at a diner in the Pittsfield, MA, area. I asked if they could make me a pizza burger. It was as if I was speaking Swahili or something. They didn’t know what I was asking. Even after I explained it, they still didn’t know how to do it.
My last noteworthy comment about pizza burgers is how they are in the lyrics of a Rolling Stones song. It goes like this, “I’ll never be your pizza burger.” I was shocked when I learned the actual words were a beast of burden! What does that even mean? I know pizza burger doesn’t make sense either, but a beast of burden?
Back in the day, you had to guess the song lyrics since there was no way to look them up. You would figure out some lyrics, and your friends would figure out other ones. We weren’t doing it to be funny; we really didn’t know what the fuck they were singing.
I knew Marty was a keeper when the song “Beast of Burden” came on the radio, and we both sang the pizza burger version. I thought it was only me who heard pizza burger, but apparently not. 😂
Today, my pizza burger and fries brought me back to my Elizabeth, NJ, days when I was a kid. I wish I had a glass of chocolate milk and a straw when I ate it. Of course, I would have still blown bubbles in it!
By the way, I let my boys blow bubbles in their chocolate milk when they were little; they never made a mess, and the world didn’t end. So there!
***I’ve been searching for a box of old photos since I started my blog almost two years ago next month. I found them this week and am excited to be able to post more old photos in future posts.
Our small tree in a corner for the first time since we bought our home in 2004. We love it there; it’s out of the way and not blocking the precious light that comes in during this dark time of the year.
I haven’t written about my youngest son Sam, who works as a nurse in the ER in Bennington and accepted a job up in Burlington, VT, at UVM Medical Center’s level 1 trauma ER.
Level 1 means the highest level of care for severe trauma patients, which is right up his alley. It’s the next step in his career, and we are excited for him.
Over the next couple of weeks, he will be packing, moving, and unpacking, getting everything set for his start date of 12/27. Long before Sam got his new job, I’ve been throwing out tons of shit and donating many other items.
It’s a daunting task, but after having to go through all my parent’s things twice and getting rid of their stuff, I don’t want our boys to go through that. It overwhelming and makes you feel guilty when you start chucking stuff.
While I will miss Sam after he moves, I will gain a new closet for my belly dance costuming and other pieces of clothing like coats, jackets, and shoes. Yay! We will also gain a proper guest room and not have to squeeze company into our tiny office space. Yay!
While he is packing, I am cleaning out and organizing things on the main floor. I genuinely feel like I did when I was pregnant with both boys, getting the nest ready but this time cleaning it out.
So we will officially be empty nesters, which is bittersweet. Knowing that both our boys, now men, are on their own, successful in their careers, are hard workers, and are polite and have manners. Yay!
This year when Marty and I went to get our Christmas tree. We wanted something small, which was still expensive. We were shocked to see how much the prices rose on trees was this year, like everything else.
We have low ceilings in our 1832 post and beam, showing how small the tree really is.
Many people may bite the bullet and buy an artificial tree for a one-time purchase, but I vowed when I moved out that I would never have one; I would do without but not go the fake route.
Our first real tree was back in 1989, the year we were married and moved to Vermont.We slowly collected ornaments from our families over the years. Now they are put away for when Noah and Sam have their own families and Christmas trees. We went with purple, silver, pink, and white after my mother-in-law passed away and my mother had her stroke. I couldn’t look at them after that.
Why not a fake tree? Growing up, we had a fake tree that my father never took apart. Instead, he would carry it down to the basement with the lights and tinsel still on it.
Me and the infamous Christmas tree.
He would shove it up under the basement stairs and throw a big green garbage bag over the top. The following year, he would carry it back up to the living room for us to decorate. The tree looked exactly the same every year.
Me and the same tree; the tinsel held up well over the years, I guess. 😂
I didn’t realize how pathetic that was until I was an adult with my own kids. I guess my father hated putting up a Christmas tree.
We also never had Christmas lights outside. My father said he decorated once and that “little son of a bitch paper boy” unscrewed bulbs and smashed them on the sidewalk.
How did my father know it was the paperboy? It was his exact reach at his height, he told us. So no Christmas lights growing up, but I do every year because I love them.
This week has felt long with my colonoscopy on Monday; the pathology report showed everything was normal! Thank God! On Tuesday, we had deliveries to make and an echocardiogram for Marty. Thursday after production, we made more deliveries and got our little tree.
It took me on Thursday night 5 or 6 hours to clean and move shit around to make room for the tree and my other decorations. Next came dragging all the totes upstairs from the basement. Putting up the Christmas tree is like, “the ankle bone is connected to the knee bone” kind of thing for me.
Once I finally get to start decorating, I am in my glory! I put on Christmas music for the first time of the year and drink wine. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I hate taking it down, but through past experience, I always do it neat and organized.
One year I must have been having a bad day because when I opened everything up the following year, I literally threw everything in the totes; ornaments broke, and lights were tangled beyond belief. True to my form, I threw them away and bought new ones. Lesson learned.
We were back in spätzle production on Friday; we had our farmers market today; I am completely exhausted. Tomorrow we will be in NY again, searching for a pair of swivel armchairs for our living room. It’s a long story, so I’ll tell you about it soon; until then, have a great rest of your weekend.
I don’t know how many times I’ve said I love prepping, food prep, that is. Today is a different kind of prep, colonoscopy prep.
I’m not going to talk about details to spare everyone, but I will say today has been the easiest fasting and prep day I’ve had in 40 years.
40 years? I’ve had to get colonoscopies regularly to keep a watch on my ulcerative colitis. It was embarrassing as a teenager, but I am used to it now.
In 2006, my doctor found a massive tumor attached to my right colon and appendix. I was awake enough during the procedure to know something was wrong. They gave me more drugs to keep me calm for the rest of the procedure.
Three days later, I was at an appointment with a surgeon, and six days later, I was in the OR having the tumor, right colon, and appendix removed. It was benign. Thank God!
It wouldn’t have been found if it weren’t for my bi-annual colonoscopy until it was too late. That’s why it’s essential to have it done for me and others without colitis.
What’s different about today’s prep is I slept in, then we went to work in the production kitchen making a slew of spätzle for this week’s delivery orders.
We weren’t done until almost 3:30 pm, which kept me busy and not thinking about food while on a liquid diet. I love food, cooking, and eating, so this is tough. I live to eat, not eat to live; in other words, eat to exist.
Yesterday, Marty got me a Kindle. I love reading, and even though I like the feel of a book in my hands, I don’t like buying and having books around. I tried the library, but they only had a few books I had on a long list.
I know I could get books from other libraries, but honestly, that’s too much work for me to do. I also don’t like driving to check out and return books.
I knew from my last colonoscopy prep back in 2020 any kind of social media was out since every post was about food, and I was starving.
After I publish this post, I’m going on Amazon and choosing my first book. I signed up for kindle unlimited and can also get magazines.
I never thought I’d be a Kindle person, but here I am. With the winter coming, I need to do something other than watch tv or be on social media.
My first half of drinking the prep went quickly and easily. The second half will be just as easy in a few hours. In the meantime, I am starving.
We plan to leave for Dartmouth Hitchcock around 6:30 am for a 9:00 am appointment. It’s a couple of hours away, with very few places to stop. This is stressful because what if I NEED to stop goes through my head the whole time Marty is driving.
Once tonight is over, and I am at Dart, the rest is a snap. I always look forward to the knock-out drugs, which makes me feel like I don’t have a care in the world.
That’s it; I’ll catch up with you when I am on the other side of this colonoscopy.
I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving or a nice day for those who don’t celebrate it. Yes, I have a friend that is adamant about not “doing” Thanksgiving, but he did take his mom out to brunch.
I ended up throwing the wings in the stock since no one eats them.
As you know, I tried a different method for cooking my turkey this year, and it came out fantastic! Not only was it easy and fast, but this method produced the most tender and juicy turkey I have ever made. It was the best turkey we ever had, hands down!
Before and After
The turkey stock also came out better, flavorful, and clear. Again, it made a fantastic gravy, better than my usual turkey gravy. There was zero waste on the turkey since it was carved before cooking, just requiring slicing the breast before serving. So simple!
The breasts resting while the thigh & leg pieces were still in the oven cooking, which always takes longer, usually drying out the breasts in the meantime.
The carcass I used for the stock was transformed into “dog food.” I mixed the turkey, rice, carrots, and leftover green bean ends with some stock. I removed the fat from the stock, and even though I always season everything well with salt, I didn’t this time, knowing it would be ok for the dogs.
The trick of putting gravy on the platter before placing the turkey on it kept everything moist.
Otto had an upset belly while we were away last week. He had diarrhea multiple times every night we were gone. He wasn’t eating much, but he was drinking plenty of water. At first, we thought it was separation anxiety, but we’ve gone away before. Then I thought maybe he ate something disgusting in the yard or was getting old and sliding downhill.
Last night, I mixed some turkey and rice with his dry food, and he devoured it. He did at breakfast time and dinner tonight. He seems like he is feeling better; fingers crossed.
My kitchen hack to cut the ends off of green beans and have uniform-sized beans; the ends went into the dog food.
He hasn’t needed to go out in the middle of the night for the last two nights, so who knows? We have an appointment at the vet in December, but we could bring him in sooner if he didn’t get better.
The rest of the clear stock will be my “food” on Sunday. I have to consume only liquids for a colonoscopy on Monday morning at Dartmouth Hitchcock.
I’ve had so many colonoscopies over the years for my ulcerative colitis I’ve lost track. The procedure is a snap; drinking that nasty shit is the most challenging part I hate; the rest of it, I don’t mind.
Happy Friday! The week has flown by since we went away; I can’t believe it’s our farmers market day again already tomorrow. Have a great weekend! I’ll check in with you on Sunday.
Happy Thanksgiving!!! It’s weird to be sipping coffee and chatting on the phone with my sister this morning instead of running around getting the turkey in the oven and making turkey stock.
Yesterday, I broke down the turkey or cutting it into parts. I watched a Youtube video last week which demos a new and easier way to cook a turkey and I am trying it this Thanksgiving.
Following the demo video, I made a big pot of turkey stock with the carcass and turned it on last night. it has been on a slow simmer for about 14 hours. It smells so thanksgiving-ish in here already.
Yesterday, I prepped all the sides and just have to finish everything off. The turkey will only take 30 minutes to cook in the oven after browning the skin first. That’s fast!
We are having an early dinner so Sam can eat with Marty, Noah and me before he goes to work at the ER. I am thankful we can be together this year.
I wish you all a great day and hope everyone will have a table to gather around with others, enjoying whatever feast you fancy.
I am thankful for each of you and the meaningful life I live and the family and friends I share it with.
Have a great day and for the love of monkeys, try not to get stressed out! I did that for decades and learned it wasn’t worth it. 🦃🍁
On the Path train Sunday morning. We look tired AF!
We were planning on traveling to my biological mom’s house on Sunday morning, then Marty had the idea to leave from the farmers market in Troy and go into the city for dinner and breakfast, then drive to her place.
Newark Pennsylvania Station.
It was meant to be since he quickly found a hotel room in Newark, NJ, directly across from the train station; our Hilton Honors points come to the rescue again! The ride from Troy to Newark was under two and a half hours. We were there before 5 pm.
We hopped on the Path Train and took it to the World Trade Center stop. This was the same train ride I took daily when I worked downtown. As we got closer to the WTC, I became emotional about 9/11, thinking about the poor people on their way to work or at work on the most horrible day in American history.
We noticed see-through walkways on the floors when we got off the Path. The glass showed the original foundation and columns from the Twin Towers. I had to pull it together; I wasn’t expecting to see that or the other memorial items and reminders so we never forget what happened that day or those who lost their lives.
The new World Trade Center Train Station was beautiful and empty Sunday morning.
Next, we got on the 1 subway line and got off at Christopher Street. I found a 100% gluten-free restaurant I had never heard of before and made a reservation for 8 pm. I looked up gluten-free spots in Greenwich Village the two times I was there earlier this year, but this was the first time Wild popped up.
Wild was not only gluten-free, but the owners wanted it to be a safe place for GF people to dine at. They made everything from scratch and used local and organic products. It was an Italian place, like most Greenwich Village food spots, where the staff spoke with heavy Italian accents. The place was legit and small.
Our fried calamari and Marty’s Abruzzo lamb meatballs and rigatoni. The place was dark so are the photos I took. I don’t use filters; I post the real McCoy.
We didn’t mind being crammed into the small, noisy, busy restaurant filled with excitement and great energy. We were the oldest diners in the restaurant by 25 years, but that didn’t bother us in the least bit.
It was primarily young gluten-free women out to dinner with their girlfriends. There were men there too, but the ratio of women to men tipped the scales.
The food was incredible! We had the most delicious fried calamari we ever had, even before we had to go gluten-free. We have found gluten-free fried calamari at other restaurants, but this one went above and beyond. The squid was so tender, with a crispy exterior and excellent flavor. Their marinara sauce was delicious!
Marty’s dinner of house-made rigatoni with a lamb ragu was tiny Abruzzo meatballs like I made last week. Weird. I had house-made butternut squash ravioli in a tomato cream sauce. It was so good; I ate it so fast I didn’t get a photo of it.
The only bummer was when we asked our dashing young Italian waiter about dessert, he had to break the bad news to us; everything was sold out. Waaahhhhhh! Damn!
We headed back to our hotel, went to bed, and woke up, which felt like only an hour later; it was longer, but we were living in the New York minute and got back on the Path to go out to breakfast at the best gluten-free bagel shop in the country called Modern Bread and Bagel.
Sunday morning.
We ate at Modern Bread and Bagel in the city back in March up on the upper west side. This was a new location in Chelsea. We got off the subway on 14th Street, and the bagel place was across the street! Brilliant!
Modern Bread and Bagel is 100% gluten-free and kosher. We ordered our breakfasts and sat at a cute table for two. We sipped our coffees and ate our bagels like regular New Yorkers. It felt wonderful to feel like ordinary people and order whatever we wanted without worry in my favorite part of the city.
Everything bagel with veggie cream cheese, arugula, pickled onions, and tomato. They have great Americano coffee plus black and white cookies and rugelach to go. Yum!
We grabbed two black and white cookies and two chocolate chip rugelach and headed back to Newark. We got on the road at 11:00 am and headed to see my mom, an hour and a half away.
What a fun and spontaneous side trip. Marty and I learned during covid that we couldn’t keep waiting and making excuses for not doing the things we love to do. Yes, we were tired, and our legs felt like rubber after standing at the farmers market all day and then keeping up the fast pace of walking in the train stations and streets.
Every train we were on was clean! This train car just had its floor mopped! This was great to see how well taken care of everything was. The train riders were courteous to each other; New Yorkers are amiable people, and now what you think.
We both slept on the Path train in the morning on our way to Chelsea. I used to sleep on the Path every day, so this brought back some beautiful memories for me. We realized how easy traveling to the city is, and it doesn’t have to be a once-a-year thing; hell, I’ve been there three times this year!
We got home from my mom’s today, Tuesday afternoon. We had a lovely and fun visit with her. After we unloaded Skye, I made my mini pumpkin and pecan pie tarts for Thanksgiving.
Tomorrow I’ll do the rest of my Thanksgiving prep before I go to belly dance classes. Luckily, we weren’t flooded with orders like usual while we were away; it makes sense since almost every wholesale customer got their deliveries last week.
I love prepping and cooking Thanksgiving dinner. I am not doing anything fancy this year, just the basics. I will make my turkey as I saw on Youtube last week; I can’t wait to try it! I’ll let you know how it goes.
Travel safely, sharpen your knives before prepping, and don’t stress. The more things you do ahead will take a lot of stress away on Thanksgiving Day, I promise!
Before Marty and I created The Vermont Spätzle Company, I used to make regular spätzle like everyone in the world does, ours is the only one of its kind, and we make a lot of it. If you don’t know, we don’t use wheat in our spätzle, so it’s gluten-free, it’s also lighter, and you don’t have to boil it, just a quick sauté.
I used to make regular wheat spätzle maybe four times a year; I also used to make hot German potato salad from time to time as something different to serve. I should say that I haven’t made it often since the kids wouldn’t eat it or try it.
Hot German potato salad is a lost dish from the old country people used to make; I’m not sure if anyone makes it anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it served at someone’s home or in a restaurant other than a German one.
Marty and his dad, Hans, used to belong to the Vermont Garden Railway Society. Members take turns hosting the event. The summer after Marty’s mother passed away; it was our turn. His dad was looking forward to it and was excited to come to our place and show off the garden railroad.
This was many years ago, long before our spätzle business. We didn’t have Otto and Klaus yet, so the grass was in great shape. However, the train layout needed work, along with the numerous flower beds and plants in the layout.
The property needed to be immaculate, and it was. Our local garden club sponsors tours of the people’s gardens and properties in town. The tour was the day after the train meet, so it worked out perfectly.
At the train meets, people bring potluck-type dishes. I told the club that I would provide the food without worrying about cross-contamination issues since we were extremely gluten sensitive.
People try their best to make safe gluten-free food but don’t realize gluten masquerades as many other ingredient names. They also don’t understand using a spoon from a gluten-laden dish and then taking something gluten-free with the same spoon will make me sick for close to a week. It’s true.
I served grilled bratwurst and other German sausages, red cabbage with apples and onions, hot German potato, and a black forest sheet cake for the train meet. I made a couple of other things, but I don’t remember what they were.
I made more dressing than usual since we won’t be eating it for a few days; if not, the potatoes will suck up the sauce, which will be dry.
When I planned the menu, I didn’t know that 80% of the train club members and their wives who also came along were Germans. German people may be hard to please when it comes to German food, but I knew my dishes were delicious and if they hated it, so be it.
We had a gorgeous summer day and a big turnout for the train meet. I finished preparing the German buffet and called everyone to lunch. I admit I was nervous when grilling the sausages and reheating the red cabbage and potato salad. I took some vodka from the freezer and drank a small glass of “ice water.” I wasn’t nervous anymore.
Sam was in the 7th grade and looks so little in the green shirt on the right!
I didn’t take any food photos; I didn’t even think about it since I was scurrying around getting everything out hot at the same time. I wish I had, though. The black forest cake was amazing!
The club members were older people, very conservative and traditional. Some looked stern others seemed nice. While they filled their plates, I refilled my “ice water.” I watched them eat, and everyone ate silently. Did they like it or not? It was hard to tell.
I thought they ate silently because maybe that is how they were raised. After they finished eating, I got compliments galore. Everyone loved the food! The one man who seemed stern said to me in a whisper, “Your red cabbage was even better than my mother’s.”
I started to cut the black forest cake and handed it out. I was relaxed and chatted with everyone. When someone told me how delicious the black forest cake was, I said to them that was the biggest compliment since it was gluten-free. Gluten-free, they gasped; I laughed and was pleased.
One man spoke up, almost for the group. He started by saying they didn’t know what to expect before arriving. He went on to say what a lovely hostess I was; the food was better than his mother’s German food too.
He added I made everyone feel welcome and made everything look effortless. Then he complimented Marty and Sam on the outdoor garden railway.
This photo is not from the train meet but from the same week. I didn’t dress quite as revealing for the meet, but I did wear my skull necklace! LOL.
I stood there in my black sundress, both arms with tattooed sleeves, and my whole back covered in ink as well. When I talked to the wives earlier, they stared at my nose and the medusa piercing under my nose. I had an excellent buzz cranking and didn’t let it bother me.
I think the women were especially ready to judge me, but after meeting me, my tattoos and piercings didn’t matter, or that I was at least 20 years younger than everyone present. I was judged on my food and entertainment skills, not my appearance. Maybe I changed their minds about people living the tattooed lifestyle?
The railroad society members enjoyed themselves, and so did I, something I didn’t expect to happen. I stressed about it for a couple of weeks; I wanted everything to be perfect, which never happens.
In the end, we pulled it off. Marty and Sam did a lot of work outside to get everything ready for the meet, and it all paid off; people were impressed with their garden railroad!
This is the recipe I use from my 1950 Betty Crocker cookbook. I tweak it a little to my taste, but it’s delicious as is. I quadrupled it for the train meet, and it came out perfectly.
Today, I am making a batch of German potato salad to take on the road with us this weekend; it will go with some German sausages. We are going to visit my mom (biological) for a couple of days. Yay!
We haven’t seen each other since last May, and we look forward to it. She and I are alike in many ways, and I love getting to know her better whenever I am with her. Marty notices how our mannerisms and other things are blatantly similar even though sometimes we can’t see them.
I respect my mother’s wishes and privacy, so even though I will take some photos of Marty and me, I won’t be posting any of her, but I will write about our visit. We won’t be back until Tuesday, so that I will catch up with you guys then. I plan to unplug and stay off my email and social media accounts, enjoying the people I am with in person.
Happy Friday and have a nice weekend, everyone! By the way, if you have a large turkey in the freezer, take it out tonight and defrost it properly and safely in a pan in the refrigerator; you’ll thank me Wednesday when you start your holiday prepping. ❤️
