How Romania has changed

We landed at the Bucharest Airport at the tail end of Heatwave Lucifer. How do you know when a heatwave is really bad? When they give it a name, and especially after they give it a name like that.

This time was going to be different, this time we rented a car with air conditioning! How smart we were, driving away from that blazing hot, overcrowded, traffic-jammed city and on up to our pension in Corbii Mari. The one without air conditioning. Leaping Lucifer!

It's not like the place didn't have ACs, or at least in some of the rooms. It's that in the rooms that had them, they weren't working. There was a pile of them, air conditioners, stacked up by the back door. The rate of installation seemed to be .65 units installed each day. How long were we going to stay there? A week?

As I lie on the hot bed in the hot room in the hot pension, there was a knock on the door. The manager told me there was a room available with AC. I jumped on that like a crazed woman, and the manager kindly helped me move all of our stuff down the hall to the gloriously cool room. OK, yep, I can handle a week at this place.

Romania is getting AIR CONDITIONERS!

Next up, after not shriveling up in the heat, was seeing how the pension was going to handle our vegan diet. Breakfast was included in the price, and it was very meat-heavy. But with just a short explanation of what we needed, we got an incredible fruit plate and a plate of tomatoes and cucumber along with some vegan spreads every morning. Those were the tastiest nectarines I've ever had.

Romania does nectarines well.

So then came the next question, how had Romania changed in the four years since we were last there. In the villages? Not much. They still felt a thousand miles away from bustling Bucharest. There is still poverty amidst the abundant food supply from the fertile soil. Many of the young people have left, but the older ones are incredibly resilient. And yes, the horse-drawn cart is a very popular mode of transport. There is a charming custom of decking out one's horse with a pattern of red ribbons, so many that the horse just knows it's looking super fine and seems to trot that much more elegantly. I tried to get a picture of one of these red ribboned horses, but they were just too jaunty and quick for my reaction time, especially in the heat.

Just one red ribbon.

Craigslist has not hit the villages, if you want to sell a cow, you put up a sign.

Cow for sale

Every single house has a fence and gate. Every one. You just don't have a house all naked and exposed like most of us in the US have. The fence and gate are like the front door. You don't just waltz in to someone's yard without first yelling out for them. We learned this rule this time around, because in 2013 we broke the fence/gate etiquette many times without realizing it. Oops.

A bench is also very common.
Neighbors sit and talk.

The horse selfie, or horsie, has now become a thing.

I don't drink sodas at home. Don't buy them, don't drink them, even if they're offered at a party. Yuck, soda, who wants soda? In Romania, I do! Coca-Cola tastes so good there, it doesn't taste like an assault to the nose and brain like it does here. Yum. Plus, every bottle has a city name on it, and it's fun to see which one you get.

More on Cluj, read on.

Oh the beer.
Oh the Ciuc Radler.
We came back for loftier reasons, I would like to think.
But oh, the Ciuc.

After the first couple days, the heatwave named Lucifer broke. That means it went from the 106 degree range to the mid 90 degree range. Which still felt really really hot in the villages. Shade trees are still not super popular there - small fruit trees that produce food are way more popular than big trees that only produce shade.

You know a town is hot when it is named Hot.

This was the only shade tree in town.

Romania is a place where you're just about ready to throw up your hands and say you're never coming back, ever, and then something happens that touches your heart and begs you to give it another chance. A real shepherd down on the bank of a river with his herd of sheep, a group of Roma children quietly eating plums as they watch a video on your tablet, a kind couple pulling out their best chairs so you can take a little rest on their porch, the street dogs, the goats, the geese, the struggling little stores that are thrilled to sell their barely cold Cokes to the sweaty Americans, finding the best little seesaw you've ever been on in a park in the middle of town as you watch a man take his wife out for a ride behind their red ribboned horse. It's all part of the package, and it's why I'll go back. 

Good and simple times with really loving people.

Mamaliga!

Andrei and Iulia!

Vegan pizza with arugula? Yes!

My advice if you're looking for a really great place to visit in Europe, with great food, cheap prices, not much traffic, calm surroundings and tons and tons of charm? Visit Romania, but don't go to Bucharest! Don't fly into Bucharest! Fly into Cluj-Napoca, or as you'll learn it's really called, just Cluj. Everything about Romania that makes it hard to visit isn't an issue in Cluj. It was like Romania-lite. We loved Cluj and hope to go back. 

More mamaliga. Yum.
This mushroom sauce was specially made for us. 

Good times at the Botanical Gardens.
What a wonderful treasure in the heart of the city.

Cobblestone streets...

...and pretty buildings with an Austrian feel.
But without the Austrian prices.

Cluj Arena was the best part of the vacation, for sure.

Until next time, Romania.

How Germany has changed

Please excuse any weird formatting issues. Blogger doesn't care much for this Keyboard.

QWERTY, I miss you!

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YXCVBNM,.-

If one reads the News (and please excuse the German Keyboard, it wants to capitalize some of the nouns) as much as I do, one would think Germany has changed so much it wouldn't be recognizable. Stories of overflowing refugee camps, knife-wielding madmen running rampant in the streets and other Headlines made me wonder how different I would find this place after an Eleven year Absence.

When we come to Germany, we are usually based around the cities of Frankfurt, Mainz, Bremen and a very Little town North of Bremen called Garlstedt. We've been in other larger cities in the past, but didn't visit them this time. Like I said, it's been 11 years. We've been here in 1993, 1996 and maybe three other times, I've lost track. I love it here, because it's cool and green, clean and orderly, well-run and efficient, and very safe. All those qualities make my heart sing, so I was bracing for the worst.  

So, after one week, what have I found? Here is my take on Germany in 2017:

• People still smoke a lot. They throw their cigarette Butts in the street.
• There is very Little litter, hardly any. If there were no cigarette Butts, there would be no trash in the streets to speak of, especially compared to where I live in Sacramento, California.
• It is hotter, but it started off so cool that it's still refreshing.
• If there is an obesity epidemic here, I'm not seeing it.
• The buses run on time, as always. If you're late for the bus and you scream and yell and Pound on the doors of the bus as it's pulling away, the bus Driver will not stop. And that's why the buses run on time. You really must get to the stop on time.
• From time to time you see Immigrant women in headscarfs, but I see more in our Sacramento neighborhood.
• There are huge windmills and solar Panels everywhere.
• The German People didn't go anywhere, they are still here. Just with some refugees added in.
• Most everyone still speaks German.

Some other Things that haven't changed:

You'll see some socks with sandals, but less 

than in the past.

All the Buildings are still Standing.

You still don't have to share your covers.

Tomatoes and cucumbers for breakfast are still 

a Thing. 

Beer, still the national drink.

Lots of Little German cars,

but more SUV's too.

The Food is still awesome!

Wait! Is that VEGAN Food? In Germany?

Yes it is, and it is everywhere. And so is the best gluten-free bread I've ever had. Gluten-free bread that doesn't taste like reconstituted cardboard. It is so good, it Toasts up like real normal bread, and Looks to be whole-grain, which I can't confirm because of Course it's all in German.

Soy Curls! In the Drugstore!

Happy German cows who love Soy Curls.

Alles gutes!

James Harriot meets Jane Austen

It takes a village

Leaving for an extended vacation is never easy, especially where there is a family pet involved. There are supplies to be purchased, yards to de-poop, toys to be handed out last minute to lessen the guilt, glares to be endured as the suitcases come out. 

So finding a good pet sitter is essential, one who cares about your pet deeply, one who is willing to put up with the unexpected. Finding one who writes you a hilarious mini novel to read when you get back? Priceless. This time we didn't have to wait for our return to read the novella, we received it via email. An email that was read with dread and side splitting laughter. Here it is, written by our friend, neighbor and pet sitter Melene:

Well, Miss Molly has/had been her sweet self.  We had two studies cancel this week so I have been home more and with the heat I've kept her in more.  So I thought that her 'emotional' needs were being met well.  Then yesterday afternoon I walked back into the living room and there was Molly, soulfully sitting in the middle of the rug with most of her stuffed animals pulled out of the basket and artfully arranged around her.  Did I not immediately feel that it was some sort of of message.  Signaling some lack she was feeling in my stewardship of her?  What could I do?  What do drama queens appreciate most?  Paparazzi attention.  So I took a picture of her.  Which I will send.  When I figure out how to do it.

But evidently her indoor friends were not meeting all her emotional needs either, because she felt the need to reach out for some outdoor companionship - wild and odiferous.  I think she has been feeling the heat.  Even in the house she moves from place to place.  After she has warmed up one spot she will move to another.  So Tuesday night when she woke during the early morning hours and wanted out, I didn't worry when she didn't want to come back in.  'Enjoy the cool while you can.'  In the morning she came right in and all was fine.  (Until, of course, the incident yesterday of the indoor animal friends spread out on the floor.). So last night when she wanted to stay out again, no problem.  She didn't seem to be barking.  Until about 5:30 this morning.  Her barking woke me up.  I stumbled over to the sliding door, opened it and the screen door,  and was assaulted with (what is inelegantly known as) a  'snootful of skunk stench'.  "Oh, no!  Skunk alert! Get into the house as quick as you can!"  But  it was rapidly apparent that it was too late.  The smell came in with her.  And back out she went.  And back to bed I went.  To rest up for and research what I needed to do.  

I got the ''de-skunk" recipe from the internet.  You have all the ingredients- thank you thank you!  (I had visions of trying to slink down to my house wearing my pj's to gather what I needed and then to slink back hoping no one would see me. I was still very tired when I was envisioning this.  Although, with the current fashion mode, I probably wouldn't have gotten a second look from anyone seeing me.). 

I didn't know what you usually mix it in.  But I remembered seeing an empty plastic ice cream container in the recycle.  (So I did slink out to the garbage can to dig it out.  With Jessica's robe covering the pj's.). I mixed the solution and took it and Molly into the pool yard.  With the gates shut.  She let me pour it over her and work it in.  But when it was time to rinse it off, I couldn't get her to come close to the hose I had which was running nice warm water.  So I got her tennis ball and threw it into the pool a couple of times.  That had to do for her rinse.  

She keeps hanging around the back door obviously ready to come inside.  So I had to have a little talk with her about consequences of one's actions.  (When one is wet and residually stinky, especially as a direct result of one's own risky behavior, one cannot expect all the rights and privileges one usually enjoys.).  Her head was in the attentive position, but her eyes kept sliding from side to side. So I am not counting on her rehabilitative retention of either the experience or the chat.  But she can be sure that there will be no allowance of any late-night carousing tonight.  No way, Missy.

 What could we possibly bring home from our European vacation to make up for this? All the beer in Germany? All the plum brandy in Romania? We may need to get a bigger suitcase.

Jammin at the California State Fair

It was that wonderful feeling that can only come when you think your plum jam was disqualified from the California State Fair Canning Competition, and then you find out it actually was put in the First Place category. 

Whew, what a relief. After that all the smells, sights, sounds, more smells, stickiness and sweatiness were that much sweeter. While we don't eat the vast majority of fair food, a nice cold frozen juice and some hot off the grill corn on the cob, along with the food they let us smuggle in, kept us going as we walked to see our favorite spots. 

The standouts this year? An adorable animal show for kids with a goat and a pig and a donkey and a llama and a miniature horse. Hokey and cute, we enjoyed it immensely as we sat on hay bales eating sliced watermelon. The fair at its best, as the little kids (and adults) giggled with delight. 

The other new feature we loved was making quilt blocks for kids in the hospital. In the building with the crafts and quilts, the Sacramento Quilters Guild had a stall set up with volunteers and sewing machines. There were piles of fabric squares on a table, and they were asking people to make up coordinating sets of nine squares. Of course I over-thought the whole process, and wasn't that pleased with my result, while my color blind, ahem, challenged husband put together two amazing patterns. Hey, who's the quilt expert in this family?

Fairly relieved.

Go plum jelly, go!

Fairly disappointed,

Hiding in the back with the other 3rd placers.
At least not the dreaded disqualified.
Next year, there is always next year.

My marmalade is in a jam

It's that time of year again! The California State Fair 2017 began to a blistering heat wave this weekend. Our trip there tomorrow is supposed to be "only" in the high 90's, which will feel positively cool compared to what's going on outside at this moment.

Most loyal fair attenders have their favorite venues that must be checked out. The past three years I've entered jelly and marmalade into the canning competition, and now I almost race from the front gates to the "jam building" to see how my entries did. The hard working folks in the Jam and Jelly Competition promise to get the rankings online 48 hours after the results are known. It doesn't happen, I need human eyes to check in person to see how my entries did.

The only thing you can really win in this competition is to get the Best in Division, or Best in Category. All the other jams that didn't get disqualified (my worst nightmare!) are put in classes called 1st Place, 2nd Place, and 3rd Place. Multiple people can share one ranking.

Two years ago my only entry got a red 2nd Place ribbon and I was THA-RILLLLLED! Last year I put in four entries and got blue 1st Place ribbons for all of them. More dances of joy at the fair. So this year I had nowhere to go but up! Or down.

A friend sent me a photo of my sad little Orange Marmalade with its white 3rd Place ribbon. A fruit crushing blow, as I felt it was the best marmalade I'd made to date. No word on the plum jelly, Meghan might not have known to look for my other entry. 

So, the race from the front gates to the Jam Building will be a bit slower this year, because seeing only my Orange Marmalade with it's white 3rd Place ribbon will mean that my plum jelly got the dreaded disqualified. And that would be the pits.

We live at 30' elevation.
The fair people want to know.
This information makes me feel extra short.

The mess only marmalade can make.

Hmm, bubbles are not a good sign.

I gave them their required 10 minute water bath.

If they get disqualified, I'm blaming El Nino.

The Year of the Watermelon

Did you know that July is National Watermelon month?

And that August 3rd is National Watermelon Day?

OK, that makes no sense whatsoever, so let's just make 2017 The Year of the Watermelon.

This is a tasty year for the fruit that was made for summer. Or was summer made for watermelon? It's cheap, it's easy, most everyone likes it, you don't have to cook it, or hardly give it one little thought when it's so hot outside that thinking is a luxury.

Recently I was at a catered event. There were ribs, there were salads, both green and potato, there were beans, both bacon flavored and vegan, and there was corn. And then there were those plastic tubs of prechopped fruit. You know the ones - one compartment has under-ripe, tasteless and crunchy honeydew melon, the other has under-ripe, tasteless and crunchy cantaloupe, there's a compartment for mushy watermelon and the middle has a cluster of grapes that comes up in one big batch that makes you look like a fruit hog in the food line.

Why the bad melon when we're having one of the best watermelon years in living memory? The melons of 2017 are juicy and crunchy and sweet and it seems hard to pick a bad one. Here are some tips from the National Watermelon Association on how to look like an expert as you stand in front of the giant vats of watermelon in the produce aisle.

It's as easy as 1, 2, 3.

1. Look the watermelon over.
   You are looking for a firm, symmetrical watermelon that is free from bruises, cuts or dents.
2. Lift it up.
   The watermelon should be heavy for its size. Watermelon is 92% water, most of the weight is water.
3. Turn it over.
   The underside of the watermelon should have a creamy yellow spot from where it sat on the ground and ripened in the sun.

Imagine that, no thumping or tapping or thwonking that poor melon to find a good one, we just have to pick it up and look at its little melon bottom. Of course, if it makes you feel better and you're frustrated at how your summer's going so far, it won't hurt one bit to give it a good kerplunk with an open palm. If you do it with enough confidence and say "Here's a good one" to no one in particular, fellow shoppers will pick up your thwonking technique as if you're some kind of watermelon guru. 

Some more fun watermelon facts:

The US is 5th in world watermelon production. 

The biggest watermelon ever grown weighed 350 pounds.

Seedless watermelon is not a GMO product, it's a natural hybrid.

They have more lycopene than tomatoes.

They need to be washed.

Watermelons need four things: sun, bees, water and 60 days to grow.

Let's ditch the precut up mushy stuff and buy the melons that come in their own compostable covers. They can sit around for a few weeks unrefrigerated, if they last that long. There are some cute ways to cut them and serve them to a crowd, but typically not much skill is involved. No one ever left a picnic or bar-b-que and said "Wow, that watermelon was cut very badly." 

We're planning on eating as much as we can, because when you have a great watermelon year, it must be celebrated!

It's Lycopene Palooza season.

Fruit with its own handles.

Pickled Watermelon Rinds!

Pool House Rules

When I was a little kid, my siblings and I would beg my Dad to "just put in a pool." Please?

When I was a middle size kid, the begging continued. Pretty please?

When I was a teenager, the argument became for "just an above ground pool." Come on!

We never got our pool, which in the end probably saved my skin from being even more wrinkled than it is, plus it made my Mom's house a bit easier to sell.

My Dad's reasoning, which often fell on plugged ears with an occasional "Na Na Na, I can't hear you" drowning him out, was that pools are too much hassle, too expensive and take too much time to maintain. Besides, he said, we had lots of Neighbors With Pools.

My hats go off to our Neighbors With Pools. They were the salt of the earth, or in this case the chlorine. They sat for hours, watching a bunch of gangly kids jump in and out of the water, run when running was strictly forbidden, play Marco Polo for hours, and screech and yell loud enough to be heard four streets away. This was before smart phones, wifi or even cordless phones. What did those moms do to not completely lose their minds? How did all that kid yelling not cause their brains to start oozing out of their ears?

The moms and dads of my old neighborhood took their lifeguarding duties seriously. We knew the rules too, we were absolutely not allowed in any way, shape or form to go swimming without an adult to watch us. In the case of my friend Kim's pool, the fact that her mom worked really put a wrench in our swim-all-day, swim-every-day plans. 

So we got around the rules with this bit of reasoning: If we climbed up on the roof, got a running start so as to clear the cement area around the pool, we could jump in the pool. Jumping is not swimming. Jumping is jumping. Her mom didn't say we couldn't jump unless she was there, she said we couldn't swim unless she was there. Semantics, they are so crucial.

Of course if you find yourself in the middle of a pool for some odd reason, say maybe because you took a running jump off the roof, you sort of had to swim to the side. It wasn't swimming, it was jumping and then taking the necessary steps to exit the pool. A neighbor who saw the whole thing and didn't think much of our plan told Kim's mother, who then had to make some really stupid rule about us really really not being allowed in the pool in any way, shape or form. Nosy neighbor!

Now that we are the people with the pool, I can see why those moms and dads let all us kids use their pool for hours on end, every weekend, every summer night, and as long into the fall as we could bear until our lips turned blue and we shivered all the way home to our house without the pool. It's fun to be the house with the pool. It's fun to hear kids screaming and screeching and yelling until your brains almost ooze out your ears. It would be stupid to let all that chlorine be wasted on quiet adults who merely paddle around trying to not get "too wet."

This sign came with our yard.

This wooden sign, a bit tattered and sun faded, used to have three rules hanging from the bottom. If I recall correctly they were:

Rule #1  No running! Or skipping! Or walking super fast!

Rule #2  Don't do anything in the pool that you would do in your toilet!

Rule #3  No swimming without adult supervision! Or jumping off the roof! Don't look at the water without an adult within 3 feet! Don't even think about swimming without written consent!

(It might have been a bit more succinct, but speaking from experience, kids need rules to be a bit more fleshed out. Semantics, they are so crucial.)

Truthfully, I don't mind the running around the pool part of childhood. Kids run around pools, they just do. It's the falling and cracking the head open part that no one wants to see, so the pesky no running rule will always top the list. But in the end just swim, be safe, and have fun. Screaming is a given.

Rule #4 Don't pop my Gummy Bear Floatie!

Plant-based Eating at WinCo for $5.25 a Day!

What was the result of our plan to eat plant-based foods from WinCo, and only from WinCo, the whole month of May? Did we survive only eating from one store? Did we save money?

While I'll always be a fan of smaller stores, I learned my way around our local WinCo and I got to be quite the efficient shopper. I always hit the produce section first and was pleased to find so many organic choices. Then it was on to the amazing bulk foods area. Did you know you can get bulk Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, yes bulk, at WinCo? I didn't, but wow, just the fact that I could made my day. Week. Year.

My bulk purchases were down at the other end, far from the vats of chocolate treats. Oatmeal, raisins, brown rice, dried beans, you know, the ho hum foods. But ho hum also means cheap cheap, and many times I stared in amazement at the cash register as it tallied up my food buys. Really, that cheap?

We ate well, we ate healthy, and we ate cheap. The plan wasn't really to save money, though. It was to compare it against our usual food costs. While WinCo didn't beat out the 99 Cent Store, not by a long shot, it did save us $75 this month on food costs. 

Things I'll go back for? How much can I rave about their bulk section? They have the best mayacoba beans I've ever tasted. They practically give away their oatmeal. And I got bulk turmeric so cheap I tried not to laugh while at the register.

We came out of this experiment loaded up with fruits and veggies and salads and soups and stews and smoothies and the best veggie tacos I have ever made. Thanks WinCo, it was a Win Win!

While I wouldn't sell my birthright for it, this lentil stew was quite yummy!

Did we eat lots of salads? Kale, yes.

Love me a spicy curry dish with garbanzo beans.

Brown rice salad anyone? Those pepper were on sale. 

Fresh corn and black bean salad with tomatoes and olives.
And more kale salad in the background.

The Best Vegan Tacos on the Planet, with Grilled Peach Salsa.
I made them.
They had tempeh in them.
Yes, WinCo has tempeh!