Limbo

Once again, I have fallen behind. I can't seem to regulate myself to write on any kind of consistent basis. It is not like I don't have an abundance of material, quite the contrary. Springtime has proven to be full of activities, visitors, trips and everyday occurrences that still make me go "Huh?!?" However, my excuse is not that I have been so busy, but rather I feel like I am in limbo.

Three years ago this month, Larry and I visited China. He interviewed for a job, was offered the position and we made the decision to take the plunge. I can't believe how fast these three years have gone. It doesn't seem possible that we've been living here, the twins have spent a third of their lives as expats, Katie's been to more foreign countries as a tween than Larry and I did combined.

We are now on the cusp of another adventure. Moving companies have been visiting the house to give us quotes. The only problem is we still aren't sure of our next destination. Offers have been made, and we are carefully considering our options. I've even dusted off my resume in preparation of reentering the work force as chances are my days of being a Tai Tai are numbered.

Stay tuned...

Culinary Adventures

Lots of free time, recipes, food-blogging friends, as well as the availability of exotic foods all but beckoned me to the kitchen this long and brutal winter. After my successful Thanksgiving dinner, I was feeling pretty good about my chances in the kitchen. Two plus years here and my culinary repertoire had not expanded much beyond fried rice and dumplings. I still can't manage to make noodles that don't look like a pile of brains unless they're instant (the noodles, not the brains). However, I decided to step out of my and our family's comfort zone and try some completely different foods.

One of my favorite movies of recent is Julie and Julia, the one about Julia Childs and a woman who cooks her way through her cookbook then blogs about it. I loved that idea and applauded the woman who really did that, knowing I never would have the will power to get through it and be diligent enough to write every day. One of my high school buddies had started a blog last year following the same gist. She was going to choose a different recipe, cook it for her family, and then post their reactions good and bad for all to see. Lynne over at 365 Days of Baking just finished her year of recipes. I've got to hand it to her. Not only did she successfully complete her task, she also inspired me.

Indian food is my new favorite. I love the flavors and am especially fond of naan bread. I researched a bunch of recipes, found the ingredients and set about cooking. Dinner was a long time coming as I didn't figure in the time the dough needed to rise, but when Katie kept sneaking bites from the skillet, I knew I had a winner. The butter chicken and garlic naan disappeared.

Another keeper, if only in my book, was the cranberry scones recipe. Downton Abbey and all of the Brits around here make tea time look like so much fun. I wanted to get in on it. Surprisingly, scones are not too difficult, or rather the recipe I found was not difficult. Sydney even helped me. She was not all that jazzed with the results and told me we needed to cook something she liked next time.

Teriyaki was my tried and true marinade, but it was time to give it a much deserved break. All of the imported marinades and barbecue sauces are fairly pricey. I scanned the internet in hopes of finding some tasty alternatives. Feeling daring, I combined several recipes, adding more of one ingredient, substituting others, and hoping for a decent outcome. I poured my concoction on a pork tenderloin, setting aside the remaining sauce. When everyone, including Sarah (who never uses sauces) asked for more sauce, I secretly did a happy dance.

I'd promised myself and the family to try at least one new recipe a week, whether it be a sweet treat, marinade or full-blown meal. I've kept the promise and steadily increased our favorites-in-rotation. Yes, we still enjoy taco night, but with little variations. Yes, we still have spaghetti night, but we've now tried five or six different kinds of pastas and sauces.

No, I have not mastered the art of boiling Chinese noodles...but I am more confident that I will.

Weddings

A couple of weeks ago, on an ordinary Thursday afternoon, I glanced out the living room window and was perplexed by the sight of hundreds of pink balloons floating down the street. I watched their procession towards the house across from ours. A half dozen groundskeepers were cleaning and pruning. Some more were busy lining the walk way leading to the house with beautiful flowers. The windows were covered with red Chinese characters. The pink balloons were quickly strung into a billowy arch at the beginning of the walk way by two older women. "How lovely, new neighbors!" I thought.

An hour later, The sound of fireworks brought me outside. Our neighborhood doesn't allow the lighting of fireworks in the compound. At the center of the street, four guards and four photographers were gathered around the ignited strand of firecrackers. Rules were being broken. The loud cracking went on for a good fifteen minutes. While the huge box of enormous 'bottle rockets' shot into the air, a line of cars appeared. Seven Mercedes and one BMW SUV filled the street. The cars were decorated with flowers and ribbons and filled with wedding party members. More people came walking in, their cars were probably at the entrance to the compound. The photographers were frantically snapping thousands of shots, while the mother of the bride, I assume, was barking orders to everyone. A gigantic boxed cake was gingerly carted from the back of one of the Merecedes into the house by three sharp dressed men. Three taffeta ensconced females helped the blushing bride from the BMW. The newlyweds were then directed to the pink archway, where they stood for five minutes. I'm not sure what took place, but words were said and more photos were taken. The happy couple and their entourage then went into their house, a wedding present. Less than an hour later, the party ended and everyone left, including the couple. All traces of the party were quickly cleaned, the flowers were removed, the archway was dismantled, and the firework remnants swept away. The only thing that remained was the BMW, another wedding present.

Just another ordinary day here in China.

Posting Issues

So, I am fairly close to being caught up with my posts. I am close, that is, if you don't want any pictures. Once again, I am having computer issues and am unable to load any pictures. I've got a backlog of more than a dozen posts, but they don't have photos. And, honestly, it's the pictures that make most of my posts worth viewing. If I can't correct the problem in the next couple of days, I guess I'll post what I have and go back at a later date to add pictures. If it's not one thing...it's the other.

Long, Cold Winter

The first two months of 2012 have been relatively uneventful...as uneventful as things can get for an expat family. The Christmas break lasted a little over three weeks, the girls went back to school for two weeks and then were off again for the Chinese New Year for ten days. Since we didn't go anywhere during either break, this winter seems to be much longer and colder than the previous two. It is almost expected that expats take exotic vacations. When we told people we were sticking around, they looked at us questioningly, waiting for us to explain. Quite frankly, we didn't feel like battling the crowds and the grossly inflated prices. Most folks I've talked to who did go away commented on both of those.

As the rain continues to fall almost every day, the mood falls as well. I wondered if I was the only glum one. At the bus stop this week, I discovered I was not alone in my depression. All of us lamented the harshness of the elements and what it's done to our psyche. We also vowed to help each other out of the funk.

Now don't get me wrong. I know 'tai tais' have it easy over here. However, it's not all massages and shopping trips. In fact, I haven't had a proper massage in almost a year (she says with a heavy sigh and rolling eyes). The every day tasks are not as simple as they are back home. I fear for my life every time I go out in this beastly traffic with thousands of folks who should not be behind the wheel of a car. Add rain and cold to the equation and I don't even want to leave the house. Grocery shopping with gloves and a scarf on is the norm since the stores are not heated.

I can count on one hand how many times I've seen blue sky this year. I can count with one finger how many times the temperature has gone above 55 degrees. Thankfully, the girls seem unaffected, except they can't play outside every day. Larry even hits the links in this hideous weather. Not me. Give me the mosquito-infested, swimmingly humid, sweltering heat any day.

Sleepovers Should Not Be Called Sleepovers

On December 1, the twins turned nine...NINE! The shock of that was coupled by the fact they wanted to have a sleepover. Ugh, not another one. I'd barely recovered from Katie's spa tween sleepover and the Brownies' sleepover. However, Sydney was not going to give me a break. She keeps a running tally of the injustices of being a younger sibling and informed me Katie'd already had two sleepover parties and she and Sarah hadn't had a one. The next point of negotiations was the invite list. Sarah's list was small, Syd's was not. They still wanted to have a joint party, which made me very happy. I don't imagine my luck will hold much longer. We managed to settle on each inviting three friends. Sydney worked out in meticulous detail the events that would take place, and a layout of where everyone would sleep in the family room. Sarah made the invitations. They told me my only task was cooking. "Sure", I thought.

As with Katie's party, we picked up the party goers at school. These girls had packed as if it was a week-long vacation. Mr. Liu just laughed and piled it all and them into the van. Sydney checked her itenarary and instructed the girls the order of events, which was met with lots of "But let's do this first!" and "Can we wait and do that later?" With a huge harrumph, she relented, but only on a few items.

We stopped at Dairy Queen for a pre-dinner Blizzard. As soon as we entered the neighborhood and the girls saw the boys outside playing, all Blizzards were left on the counter and out the door they went. I saw Sydney check 'playing with boys' off her list. Dinner was devoured in record time and they were ready to dance. I soon became DJ Mel with the duty of spinning constant tunes, which then turned into Freeze Dance. The amount of energy two Belgians, a German, a Mexican, an Aussie, an Italian, and two Americans expended was a sight to behold. I'd jacked them all up with plenty of sugar so I had nobody to blame but myself.

It was after 11pm before sleeping bags were unrolled. I figured it was safe for me to go upstairs, but at 1:30am, I still heard giggling. At 3am, everyone was asleep, with the television blaring. I hoped they would sleep late. Nope. 5:30am brought the first sounds. By 7, they were clamoring for breakfast. They were all outside again at 8, which left me with the task of rolling up sleeping bags, and sorting discarded clothing.

They tried to talk me into extended the party since Katie extended hers, but to no avail. I knew every one of those girls would go home and pass out. When I saw one of the mums that next week at school, I asked if her daughter was tired after the party. She said she wanted to send her to our house every weekend, because for the first time she didn't argue when told to go to bed.

Thanksgiving

In fifteen years of marriage, I can count on one hand how many turkeys I've cooked. The first one was a successful fifteen pound beauty for my parents and Larry in our little mill house in Seneca. Much too much bird for four people, but it sure was pretty. The second was a Cajun marinated deep fat fried one when my brother and family visited. It too, was tasty, up until Katie barfed at the table after her Uncle Mark threatened to eat the food from her plate and she shoved the contents into her mouth.

The third and perhaps best tasting turkey was the one cooked this past Thanksgiving. Of course, China does not recognize the holiday, though many restaurants offer traditional meals. We've gone out the past two years here, but we were all hankering for some home cooking. I had plenty of time on my hands again since I was no longer working, so I scoured the stores in both Suzhou and Shanghai. I found all the ingredients and started cooking the day before Thanksgiving. Since both Larry and the girls had work and school respectively, I planned the meal for exactly at 6pm. No time for appetizers or drinks. Straight to the meal.

This was the first time I had cooked the entire meal by myself and I was pretty pleased. I have never and will never claim to be a great cook, but I do know that I can cook. I just don't want to admit it. I might end up in the kitchen every holiday meal. Every once and awhile, I like to plate up one of my 'grue' dishes, which inevitably gets me a pass from the kitchen for a night. Luckily, no 'grue' on Thanksgiving. Even the gravy was delicious . It could have been that we were just so starved for a taste of Americana, but we devoured the turkey, stuffing, potatoes, squash, broccoli, gravy, biscuits and pumpkin pie as if we weren't sure of the next time we'd get such delicacies. Frankly, I didn't even mind doing the dishes that night and looked forward to leftovers for the next few.