Wall zero, Baba one

My dear grandmother, Baba, fell the other weekend. She probably tripped and smacked her forehead into a concrete wall in her sewing room in the basement. My grandfather, Champ, rushed her to the hospital for a once over. A few scans later they determined that she was spunky, resilient, and mostly uninjured. The next morning she woke up with two black eyes and a nasty bruise on her head. Apparently, that's just where the blood goes.

That concrete wall got me once. I was a little kid and a slipped (probably rushing) down the basement stairs. I don't recall it well, but I don't think I was stoic. I'm guessing I balled my eyes out.

The worst thing, in Baba's opinion, about this fall was that it happened right before Russian (Orthodox) Easter. She wasn't able to go to all the ceremonies and sermons, which is very disappointing. Easter is her favorite holiday.

Champ's birthday just came and went again, as well. I called to wish him well, and in classic Baba, ended up talking with her about her run in with the wall for most of the call.

My coworker remarked that there's just something special about that generation. They seem to take everything in stride. I'm willing to bet generation X (or whatever I am) will not end up being known for its stoic demeanor in the face of adversity.

Rock on, Baba.

Gluten-Free Pierogies: Long Time Coming

My grandmother loves Pierogies. As do all her children and their children's children. For me, they are the sacred, comfort, feasting, holiday, every day food of my youth. When visiting their house to this day, my grandparents serve up pierogies almost as quickly as they do hugs. And I won't soon forget the magical afternoon three of my closest friends and I spent making pierogies from scratch in my current home: three expatriot Pennsylvanians (and one native) cooking soul food. We ate nearly four dozen pierogies that day.

My grandparents serve up pierogies in lots of butter, onions, and cabbage. It's a simple dish that warms my heart and tummy. A side of thick, heavy bread and horseradish; or if for brunch with potato pancakes and sour cream.

I opted for the former: boiled for 7 minutes while a diced onion simmered in an ungodly amount of Smart Balance butter, drain pierogies and add to butter/onion mixture. I kept them on the burner while we finished our creamed corn side, browning each pierogi on each side. It's not the same method Frankie used (just straight up frying), but it's more conducive to the frozen variety.

Since the whole celiac diagnosis, I have been pierogi free. This is a crying shame. For a Valentines Day present, Quincy purchased six bags of Gluten-Free pierogies from an east coast producer, shipped to our house one-day freezer pack.

The only brand of gluten-free pierogies Q's found (so far) are (sort of) available on Amazon (of course): Conte's Gluten Free Pierogies. As you might guess, a giant ravioli filled with mashed potatoes and cheese and onions isn't difficult to make without wheat, and the end result is a gluten-free pierogi that does not stray from the Mrs. T's standard. We're encouraged now to try it ourselves, from scratch. I might have to fly in Frankie and Regina; while I'm at it, Baba and Champ.

Lists

At some point, probably pretty early in life and certainly before I left home, I gave up resisting the early Saturday morning projects and began to embrace them as a way of life. The proper, normal way to live was to make a list of things to do, then check them off as you do them. Preferable before lunch.

My dad and his wife Deb are visiting Seattle this week. As a course of habit my dad and I do small projects around my house during his visit. The running joke is a true story from his first visit to my new Seattle home: we worked seven consecutive, long days pulling out old knob-and-tube wiring and replacing with proper modern electrical work (to code, my dad is an electrician by trade); my father left Seattle having never seen the garage or back yard. Yes, we're driven. We had a list (actually, three) and everything was checked off at the end.

In subsequent visits we've made time for our other hobby, pool. We've eaten out more and seen the city. We've also updated attic insulation, built shelves, fixed a dryer, added lights, fixed plumbing, and painted. This time, we're working on three projects.

First, we're updating all the locks in the house. We're moving from the single cylinder deadbolts to double cylinder deadbolts, so that would-be robbers can't just break a window and unlock the door. We're adding electrical support to the newly installed sink garbage disposer. We're installing a wall mounted coat rack, hanging some heavy frames, and changing the bathroom vent to actually vent outside the building. We should have time for a few racks of pool on Friday. I put it on the list.

So far, we've done two trips to The Home Depot. We have one more planned tomorrow (we just made out BOM (bill of materials) for the rest of the projects). I bet we'll go at least one more time after that. Heck, it's only 25 blocks away. That's a lot closer than Pennsylvania. It's times like these that I can really appreciate how much advantage those who stay near home enjoy. Parents and other family members can add so much information, experience, and fun to mundane projects. Those of us who have chosen to move far away, well, we have it just a bit harder. Except when the dads visit.