Cast of Characters - Dad

Cast of Characters:

If my life was a story, these people would have a starring role. I want my readers to know more about them, so over the following weeks, I’ll be including various interviews that I’ve recently conducted with the most important people in my life.

My Father, Jack.

He’s always been a major force in my life. I inherited a lot of his strengths, and weaknesses. He’s a regular in my cast of characters, but only recently…In the past few years we’ve grown closer. Maybe he was finally able to start looking at me as an adult, maybe I was finally able to see him as a human being. At any rate, I talk to him a lot and even though we don’t see eye to eye on everything, I listen to his opinions and they definitely color my choices. (Thanks for the job advice, Daddio!) So here is the interview:

Erin: Where are you from and why did you leave?

Jack: I'm from Oregon....and I never left, at least for long.

E: What would you say was the most formative moment in your life?

J: There was no specific moment: being the eldest son of a rancher likely created the way I look at life. I learned that leadership was my birthright and responsibility; no excuses allowed.

E: I know you've had two major careers in your life; Fisherman & Parole Officer. What prompted the switch?

J: Actually I count five: rancher, military, fisherman, diver, parole officer. They were all doors that appealed to me, which opened when I pushed on them. Common themes? Adventure, risk, compensation, autonomy....I may be valuing stability more with my current occupation.

E: How old were you when you first learned to play guitar, and what is the first song you can remember learning?

J: I was twelve when I first learned to play guitar, and the first song was "American Pie."

E: Since you've taken up most of the cooking, you seem to have developed your own flair in the kitchen. What is your favorite recipe and why?

J: It’s hard to say, probably fajitas. They are quick, tasty, healthy, and the family likes them. I like cooking things that come out of the garden. Favorite spice/herb: cilantro (fresh). So useful in different recipes....

E: You've grown all kinds of plants in your garden. What crop are you most proud of?

J: For some reason, I am fascinated by mass plantings of corn. The plants themselves are so impressive, and they make LOTS of product that is great fresh and lends itself to freezing so can be enjoyed through the winter.

As you can see, he's not just another pretty face. He's a Jack-of-all-trades. He even makes fajitas...I think he enjoyed this interview, and if you have any more questions, please ask. I definitely think he could be convinced to write a guest post. ;)

More to come~

~e

New Villanovababy Design

I just updated my splash with my Valentine's Day design! Go check it out!

~e

I was "Mom'ed"

Tonight was supposed to be girls night out. Well, it was... and it was pretty fun. First Tim and I picked up Dane and Gillian, and met up with Jay at the Yak & Yeti for some delicious Indian food. Then the boys took off and Gillian and I headed over to the Westminster Mall (it's a crap-hole... but that's neither here nor there.)

As we pull into the parking lot and exited the car, a truckful of rowdy teenagers cruise past. One boy hangs out the window yelling "woohoo" at the back of my head, and as I turn around he says, "Heeeey MOM!".

HEY. MOM. What the HELL? I am not a mom. I could be a mom, but I do not think I look like a mom. I'm not trying to insult mothers in general, but if I was wearing mom jeans and a cardigan embroidered with KITTIES on it...then I could understand. I get that to a 17 year old boy, I may look like I'm of motherly age...but is this something we YELL at people in parking lots?

Gillian (bless her heart) tried to convince me that they must have been yelling at HER about her driving. I only wish that were true. The truth is... I'm of mom age. I'm not a teenager, and I'm no longer of the age where I might be mistaken for a teenager. I don't WANT to be a teenager, but I'm also not ready for people to think I'm "MOM". I still want to be "woohoo-ed" at for all the wrong reasons, but I don't want to end up like those sad cougars who look like Paris Hilton from the back, until you see their botox'ed within-an-inch-of-their-life faces. I'd like to age gracefully...but just not yet.

After the incident, we went to see 27 Dresses (very funny and cute movie) and I sat contemplating the incident mentioned 16 times above... I've got a fragile ego, and it's completely squashed. I feel like a frumpy old lady. (Please do NOT comment about how I'm insulting anyone over 28...I'm allowed to feel old at 28. It's getting close to 30 and that's a tough age for ANYONE.) But the only conclusions I can draw are:

a. Teenage boys have shit for brains, especially the mall-cruising variety.

b. I need to invest in some shit hot eye cream.

the end.

In honor of Gillian...

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

I wrote captions for all the images, but of course the slideshow doesn't show them, so if you want to know more, go HERE and click the "i" in the center of the image to see the captions.

Hope you enjoy my shoe collection!

~erin

Heath Ledger...

He's been one of my favorite actors since I first saw him in 10 Thing I Hate About You. I was so excited that he'd gone on to be an amazing actor. This morning, he died. They suspect drugs. I'm unspeakably sad about it.

~e

update: They did an autopsy and the reports were inconclusive. So, his death is still a mystery. I feel strange for being this upset, but I know that I'm not alone.
Heath was one of those actors that seemed real. He was a good looking guy, but he had that edge. I think to some degree, when you see a movie star that you really like when you're young, you feel a kinship to them.
I was 18 when 10 Things I Hate About You came out. It was one of the first movies I owned and watched repeatedly. I had his image on my desktop at work. He was definitely an idol of mine. He went on to do such great work in A Knights Tale, Brokeback Mountain, Casanova, The Brother's Grimm, Lords of Dogtown... It really is a tragedy in every way.

Change of Habit

Most of you who know me, know that I turn over a new leaf all the time. I'm constantly trying to improve my life, my being, my personality, the size of my ass. :) Most of the time I even stick with it. After all the leaves I've turned over, it's a mystery as to why I'm not perfect yet.

Oh yes, it's true, I am still completely flawed. But, I'm highly aware of most of my flaws. The hard part is trying to decide if something is a flaw that should be fixed, or a personality characteristic that keeps me from being boring. It's a mixed bag really. I generally say the wrong thing at parties (at some point) which stems from maybe having one TOO many glasses of some sort of libation. SO, I try to limit my alcohol intake, only to discover that um... I still say the wrong thing sometimes. It turns out, that's just part of the magic of me.

So, I've moved on to other leaves. As you know, I've given up meat. I've also quit caffeine, and smoking. I've tried to give up sugar and alcohol completely, but I just can't see why I should. Cake is good. Wine is good. I'll have to give up wine when I get pregnant, and then what will I have? CAKE. You can't take cake away from a pregnant lady, she'll stab you.

My next leaf is going to be my fitness. I'm see-sawed on the fitness bandwagon for years. It seems like I've never been able to manage a regular work-out schedule at the same time that I'm managing to eat healthily. I blame the military and all those years they made working-out seem like a punishment. But I digress, the real reason I want to get fit is for my pregnancy. I don't want to start out as a flabby walrus. (I may end up like one, but if you start out like one, then you end up like a flabby blue whale, which as you know is the largest animal on this planet. ack!)

I read somewhere that being pregnant is like a marathon, you need to be fit and ready before it happens. With the advent of the pill, women have the chance to PLAN. (Why some of them don't take advantage of that, I'll never know) Anyone who knows me, knows that I LOVE a good plan. I like writing it down, and checking things off (hellloooo Monica Gellar) and that is what I intend to do.

My new leaf, is get fit. In ANY way possible. I'll keep you posted.

Moby Talks Huckabee...

(from moby.com)

so let's talk about mike huckabee a bit more, ok?
what do we have so far:
a-fat guy, loses weight, plays bass, runs for president, wins iowa, loses new hampshire
and michigan and wyoming.
b-pressures parole board to pardon a serial rapist who then goes on to rape
and murder more women after being paroled.
c-says he stands with the writers guild and then crosses picket lines
to be on jay leno's show.
d-receives hundreds of thousands of dollars in unethical gifts while governor.
e-refuses to release transcripts of his sermons from when he was a preacher.

and now we find out that in 1998 mike huckabee signed a church
letter that stated:

"a wife is to submit herself to the servant leadership of her husband."

click here to read more

The Library of Congress

http://www.flickr.com/photos/library_of_congress/

The Library of Congress uploaded around 3000 photos to Flickr this month. Half of them are color slides from the 1930's-1940's and then a load of news photos from the 1900+. Really wonderful stuff, lots of candids... I suggest you check them out!

I save things.

Every year I try to purge my files of things I don't need, but when it comes to my personal files I just can't seem to part with anything. I've saved every letter every written to me, every card, every note jotted on a napkin. It probably stems from low self esteem. I saved all those pieces of paper so that I could look at them later and have proof that people cared about me. It's as though my subconscious thinks that if I throw them away, it's as though they never existed or that connection is broken.

My favorite part about looking at those letters and cards are the ones from my best friend and from my family, especially from my little brother. I still have a card he made and sent to me while I was stationed in Montana (he was 7). It had a drawing of a birthday cake with about 50 candles and on the inside he had painstakingly taped 2 jolly rancher candies. Jackson would always write the sweetest notes in his cards to me. Things like, "It's nice to have a big nice sister. You're nice. Have a nice day!" He didn't have a huge vocabulary, but the sentiment was genuine. The girls would always send me letters saying how much they missed me, and Emily would always include her wonderful depictions of life at the Basey house. Mostly it was pictures of Mary smacking her in the head. HAHAHAHA (I jest!)My mom would always write the sweetest notes telling me that I was smart and beautiful and that I could do anything. I never really believed her, but it felt good to think my Mother believed I was all those things. Even my dad took the time to write me little notes and letters. I cherish them all.

I saved all the letters and postcards from my best friend as well. She's so wise and funny. I loved reading about all her adventures in Europe and college. She always ended her letters with things like,"Remember the ocean, remember that little coffee shop in Redway, remember ballgowns with flip flops, remember portobello mushroom sandwiches up the river!". She had a way of keeping me grounded and crystallizing the memories of our happy times.

As I go through these files I struggle to remember some of the people who wrote me. First names and no dates make it complicated. The military had a way of moving the world in a frenetic rotation of friends and lovers, so some of them escape my memory. Even still, I saved them all. They punctuate my memories and keep me from forgetting everything I've been through and all the experiences that shaped me.

When I finally get them organized, I'm going to scan in a choice few cards and notes that really stick in my mind.... stay tuned.

~e

1990

She lay quietly in her creaky bunk staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. Her pale foot was dangling off the side of the bed to help regulate her temperature. The soft breeze from the lake below tickled her toes and the sound of crickets chirping loudly echoed in her ears.

She knew that no one was asleep. They were all lying still, listening for sound they had come to dread and yet anticipate. She felt reassured knowing that they were all lying in wait together.

That feeling of giddy fear and the rush of energy that encouraged her tiny legs to run was not new. She expected the attack. Every night. There were rumors of plans. Rumors of elaborate battle scenarios being mapped out by the enemy. But tonight, they would be prepared.

With quiet determination, they'd passed the word from girl to girl. They'd saved their ammunition from their daily activities. Sticky marshmallows, stinky old eggs, empty soda cans, miniature tubes of toothpaste, fishing line, and pine cones. Hundreds of pine cones. The back door was the expected place of entry. The empty soda cans were strung across the entry way as the alarm. Their flip-flops were beside their beds, ready for action.

Then it came, after what seemed like hours. The clumsy shuffle of the enemy through the pine needles behind the cabin. She could hear whispered commands and stifled laughter. She grimaced disapprovingly at the enemy's lack of stealth. "We might as well be attacked by a herd of elephants..." she whispered to herself. She swung her feet over the edge and silently slid to the floor below. Most of the girls were already tip-toeing to their posts. 10 at the back, 5 at the front... Pine cones ready.

The back door creaked open and the soda cans gently clinked a warning. "Shit", someone whispered outside. Then it happened. The bellowing attack. The girls poured out of the cabin flailing pine cones in every direction. Eggs were exploding on the side of the building. Shaving cream by the handful was being lobbed from behind the trees, peanut m & m's were being shot from make-shift sling-shots. She found a hiding place behind the back porch and popped up like a prairie dog to fling marshmallows and pine cones indiscriminately at the pursuing enemy. Laughter and squeals of terror echoed through the night.

The street lamps suddenly switched on. Children froze. "RETREEEEEAT!" There was thunderous trampling in both directions. She wiped the shaving cream from her forehead, kicked off her sandals and leaped into bed, and clenched her eyes tightly shut. Her heartbeat was nearly exploding from her chest. Feet stamped up the front steps. The front door swung open violently. "You all have kitchen duty in the morning." The door slammed shut. The footsteps grew dim.

She stifled a giggle. The girls beside her hissed laughter into their pillows. The entire cabin shook with squelched hysteria. Soon the gentle breeze from the lake dried the sticky bits of shaving cream and egg on their legs and faces and the night swallowed their adrenaline. She drifted off to sleep planning ways to defend their fortress from the enemy.

1988

Adrian sat with her back to the rusted chain link fence along the playground perimeter. Her pale little fingers gripped the moist grass under her bottom. No one could say she was pretty. Her gray eyes were large and unblinking and her stringy hair resembled almost no color at all. It was just pale, like her skin. A smattering of freckles dusted her round nose and the twisted expression on her tiny mouth was most likely a method of hiding her crooked teeth. She’d probably had moments of cuteness when she was a baby, before this awkward post-toddler and pre-teen phase. She was watching, quietly absorbed in the strange scene that was being played out only a few yards away.

Kerry, a pudgy and buxom 10 year old with blonde wavy hair, stood in the center of the yard hitting the rewind and play buttons on her hot pink boom box in rapid succession. Then, the tinny strains of Michael Jackson’s “Bad” floated across the expanse of the playground. She shoved a few boys to the side and began gyrating her awkwardly plump little body to the music. The small town children stood around gaping at the spectacle. Kerry, with her zebra stripe leggings and plastic hoop earrings was, by far, the most stylish person in the 4^th grade. Her My Little Pony collection was the envy of every girl who was invited to look but not TOUCH during her My Little Pony themed birthday party. She was the child of a divorce and her father lived in California. She would always come back from summer break with loads of cool new toys, all given to soothe her tattered little soul.

As the music blared some older children joined in the dancing. Some bobbed their heads, some flailed wildly attempting to perform complicated break-dancing moves they’d seen on T.V. One of the 5^th grade boys stood silently in the center of the group performing the “mime in the box” in time to the music. Adrian thought it was the most exciting thing. Her tiny feet tapped the soft ground beneath her. She wanted to dance, she longed to wave her arms and twirl through the yard. She had a momentary fantasy that she was in a music video. The dingy brick schoolhouse was replaced by New York City, cobblestone streets, lights shining everywhere, and with a red leather jacket, she danced in time with all the other children. Adrian watched the playground for a moment longer as a warm ball of excitement built in her stomach and she stepped forward into the circle of dancing children.

A whistle blew loudly and all the children looked up to see the previously distracted recess teacher trotting briskly toward the grassy yard with a stern expression. Adrian stepped backward toward the fence. She watched as the group scattered and Kerry’s hot pink stereo was confiscated. The 5^th grade boy still stood in the center of the yard like an abandoned puppet. His head rested on his right shoulder and his facial expression was frozen in mock horror and below his bent elbow, his hand dangled in the breeze.

Um, I'm a procrastinator!

When I was a child, I was a bit of a procrastinator. I would put things off until the last minute, claiming all the while that I "work best under pressure." I've learned, as I've gotten older, to be more proactive and I'm now much better at creating plans and executing them inside the designated time frame.
In some ways, I'm still like a procrastinating child, which is why I waited until yesterday to get my name officially changed. (I've been married for 3 1/2 years...) It has a lot to do with the awful experience I had last time I was at the SSN office. Also, I hate lines, and I hate being touched by strangers, and having to sit on things that I KNOW are filthy. The SSN office in Aurora smells like feet, sausage, and body odor. Yuk!
However, yesterday I went to the downtown office, and it was pretty painless. I came in at 11, got a number, and sat reading Atonement for an hour and a half until they called my name. I had to field a few strangers asking strange questions and fanning themselves loudly with crinkly pieces of paper, but all in all, it wasn't as horrible as I remembered. So, now I am officially, Erin Louise Cooper AND I can get my passport for my international adventures!!!

Daisy - The Wonder Cat

She might be the cutest animal ever. I really think she should have her own calendar.

Slice This! Recipe: Yukon Gold Potato Gratin (Vegetarian)

As some of you might have noticed, my last two recipes have involved some serious slicing. That is because I finally bought my sexy, new, red mandolin! I've been slicing daily. It's the most fun ever, and if you don't have one, I suggest that you get one. This next recipe is no exception to the ubiquitous slice-o-rama that is my kitchen. Enjoy!

Yukon Gold Potato Gratin - Serves 8 (use 9X9 casserole pan)

2 lbs Yukon Gold Potatoes, thinly sliced (1/8 inch should be fine)
3/4 lb Gruyere (you can use other cheeses if you prefer)
1 large red onion, finely diced
2 cloves of garlic, minced
2 TBSp butter
1 cup heavy cream
Sea Salt
Ground Pepper

Preheat Oven to 350 degrees. Peel and slice potatoes. Place them in a pot of boiling water for 10 minutes. Remove slices from water and allow them to cool. In the meantime, saute onions and garlic in butter until they are soft and translucent. Lightly oil your casserole pan and place 1/4 of your potato slices in the bottom, season with salt & pepper, sprinkle with 1/4 of your onions & garlic, sprinkle 1/4 cheese, and drizzle 1/8 a cup of your cream over the top. Repeat 3 more times taking care to end with a cheese layer. Then pour the remaining cream evenly into all four corners of the pan. Season with Salt & Pepper one last time and pop the pan into the oven. Bake for 40-50 minutes or until golden. (Photos to come, I forgot to take some last night before digging in.)

And in other news:

I learned today that Mike Huckabee's top campaign supporters include Tyson foods and Pepsi Co. I can't even begin to tell you what I think of the manner in which both of those companies conduct themselves in the realms of animal cruelty and contributing to the poisoning of this country with high fructose corn syrup.

That being said, 99% of Barack Obama's campaign funds are from individual contributers like Tim & I. Remember that when it comes time to go to the polls, think about the big picture. Think about more than just gay marriage... Think about the reality of the future of this country and who we can trust to lead us in a new direction.

A man with corporate interests at heart, who happens to be a christian or a man who is a christian, but has the people of this country at heart?

Go to this link from USA Today, and see which candidate you agree with most!

Obama For CHANGE!!!!

My hero! The first campaign I ever donated money to, Barack Obama, won the Iowa Caucus! I'm so thrilled. His speech was so moving. I can't remember ever feeling this way about a candidate. He's so charismatic and inspiring. I've got high hopes that he will be our next president.

Resolute

2008: a year to acquire the desires of my heart

This promises to be a big year for Tim and I. The two events in the forefront of my mind, are the trip to Paris for my birthday, and after that, the start (hopefully) of our little family. I have wanted to go to Paris my entire life, and decided to wait until 6 months before the trip to start learning french. :) So, hopefully that goes well. As for starting our family, the plan has been in the works for some time. 29 seems like a good age to begin that adventure.

I gave up meat, caffeine, and smoking 2 months ago and have committed to those goals with quite a fervor. I told myself that there was simply no option to go back. This is not a New Year's Resolution, but a lifestyle shift. My resolutions are much more direct and mostly everything I do in my daily life is to prepare for these two events. I always crowd my New Year's Resolution list with too many goals, so this year, I'm keeping it short and simple.

1) Go to Paris.

2) Start a family.


They have subgoals, to be sure. Things like:

1) Learn French (right now I only know, "Un fille sous une avion!"
2) File for official name change (so that my passport has my married name)
3) Get Passport (with a flattering picture)
4) Buy a beret (hahahaha, just kidding!)

and:

1) Quit smoking (check!)
2) Cleanse body to ensure optimum health (working on it!)
3) Lose some extra pounds and build some muscle (working on it!)
4) Buy house with an extra bedroom for the baby (yikes!)
5) Get Tim to buy into the gaelic spelling of the names I like (yeah right!)
6) Get Tim to cut down his bacon habit to 2 slices a day. (sure!)

At any rate, it's going to be a busy year and promises to be very exciting. I think this will be the year that I have the most to talk about. I'm excited at the prospect of learning another language (in more ways than one) and as my mother put it, "learning to put others first." Being married requires some degree of sacrifice, but Tim being as easy going as he is, allows me a lot of freedom to be pretty selfish. I'm preparing for a paradigm shift in that respect. I'm trying to wrap my head around the idea of caring for someone else more than myself. I'm sort of giddy at the prospect, actually.

I hope you all had a happy New Year and I wish you the best of luck in accomplishing your resolutions.

~erin

Recipe: Zucchini & Pesto Strata (Vegetarian)

Taken from: Quick-Fix Vegetarian by Robin Robertson

Serves 4

1/2 cup basil pesto
1 cup canned white beans (drained & rinsed)
3 TBSP of EVOO
1/2 cup vegetable broth
4 cups shredded or cubed day old bread (I used some french rolls I had)
1 lb of zucchini, trimmed and thinly sliced (We use our NEW Kitchen Aid Mandolin!)
Sea Salt & Fresh Ground Pepper
4 ripe plum tomatoes
1 roasted red bell pepper, chopped (I used the bottled kind, but you can also make your own)
handful of grated parmesan

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a food processor, combine pesto, beans, 2 TBSP of EVOO and blend until smooth. Add in veggie broth and process until well blended and set aside.

Spread about 2/3 of the bread in the bottom of a lightly oiled gratin dish or small 8x8 casserole dish. Layer half of the zucchini slices on top, season with salt and pepper. Spoon about half of the pesto sauce onto zucchini and top with half of the tomato slices. Sprinkle the chopped red pepper over the tomatoes and season with salt and pepper. top with remaining layer of zucchini slices. Season with salt & pepper and top with the remaining tomato slices. Season with S & P again. Top with the remaining bread and drizzle with 1 TBSP of EVOO.

Cover tightly and bake for 30 minutes (until veggies are tender and bubbly). Then remove lid (or foil) and sprinkle with a handful of parmesan cheese (use soy cheese if you prefer) and bake until top is lightly browned, about 10 minutes.

This is a light casserole and makes a great side dish, but is also hearty enough to be a main course. You can also mix it up by adding other vegetables... a layer of asparagus, or perhaps potatoes...

Happy New Year!

From Tim & Erin

- dressed for Gillian's Golden Age of Hollywood NYE party as Marilyn Monroe & Arthur Miller -

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.