The art of frying potatoes

I think there is an art to frying potatoes.  You know the kind of potatoes I am talking about.  Slices thicker than chips, fried crispy with a little softness inside.  I was never very good at it; they were too greasy and soggy, or burned.  Never could I find that happy medium. Someone taught me once how to make the perfect fried potatoes.  I watched in horror as the potatoes danced in a pan of so much oil that if spilled, the EPA would declare an oil slick.

But when I tasted the golden beauties, they didn't taste greasy at all.  The outside crunched and the inside melted in your mouth.  The perfect blend of textures and flavor. And you could taste the potato! Yum.....

Not so when I do it.  Just this morning I tried again.  When I finished eating, I commented to my husband that now I understand why I only make these once a year. If I ate them more often I would have a heart attack for sure.  Now that I am following a much healthier diet, even a piece of bacon feels too heavy and greasy. So why did I think that eating a half of a fried potato and 4 pieces of bacon would feel good?

I know if I made them more often I would master the art of frying potatoes.  In the past year I have practiced patience and learned to "live in the moment", appreciating simple pleasures and living a simple life. Paying attention to what you are doing and patience are two very necessary skills for frying the best potatoes. I stood by the pan, turning my little treasures, reminiscing about the importance of special people in my life and spending happy time with old friends. Perhaps that was the experience I was after, thinking about people I haven't seen for too long. I didn't burn anything, but unfortunately, once again my potatoes were soggy.

I guess that is my cue to let others do what they are good at and spend my time concentrating my efforts doing what I do best. It is okay to not do everything well, especially when you only spend 20 minutes a year trying.  We spend time with family and friends so we can experience the best we all have to offer.  Sometimes it is special recipes, but most of the time it is the gift of time. 

Avery enjoying a ride in a wheelbarrow

Yes, I will stick to favorite and much more healthy activities that I do relatively well and enjoy practicing. Like walking through the yard and following my granddaughter around with the camera.

She loves bugs

Yesterday we spent time with my son, Nik, who absolutely adores his niece and spending time with her.  He gave her rides in the wheelbarrow and you would have thought she was the queen.  Well she was actually. 

This queen loves bugs and is not afraid to touch them. She enjoys spending time in outside with nature.  She loves spending time with the people who love her. 

As she grows she will learn valuable lessons from all of us.  She will spend as much time with us as we can give her. I will teach her how to cook some of the same recipes my Grandmothers taught me, like homemade chicken noodle soup, bread, brownies, cookies, and crazy cake.

But I won't be teaching her how to fry potatoes.

Flowers and other forms of life

Yesterday I spent time with my granddaughter Avery.  She loves flowers and as I found out yesterday, bugs and worms. She is fascinated by little things that crawl and will spend hours watching and observing, and checking back in again later. She is also not afraid of much. Like bees.  We were at the park and she saw a bee buzzing in the area and she went after it with Gaga "running" behind yelling, "NOOOOOO!!! DON'T TOUCH THE BEE!!" Thank goodness they fly almost faster than she runs.  The only thing that prevented the bee from being caught was that he flew higher than she could reach ~ while running.

We walked around my yard for the better part of an hour, examining flowers, herbs, and weeds. As we rounded the corner to the part of the yard with the most blooms she yelled "Oh Boy! Oh BOY!!" and started ringing her hands.  I was not sure whether this act was a good thing or not but clearly she was overjoyed with the beauty of all the flowers. For a moment I feared for the life of the plants only because a few minutes earlier she had walked out of the door and bent down to admire a geranium and quicker than I could say "No don't pick" she had pulled the only flower off of the plant and said "There ~ all better" Who could argue with that I thought as she smelled the flower and grinned. So we talked about the happy flowers living on the bushes and settled for picking ONE. We picked one from each bush (including the chive plant) and had quite a beautiful bouquet when we were done. We both wore happy faces after we admired and smelled our beautiful collection.

One of Avery's "friends" watching over her flowers

Later we visited her Grandpa at work.  After eating her treat and coordinated who sat where, she saw an ant crawling around on the floor.  She picked him up and giggled as the ant crawled up her arm.  She handed her new friend off to "Poppy" and then decided squeezing the bug between her thumb and forefinger would keep him in one spot better.  She sang songs to her new friend and decided he had a sad face. Watching her demonstrate a sad face, while she is so happy, is such a cute thing.

On our way home, she lost the bug in Gaga's car, or at the park, we are not sure.  It may have crawled into the half eaten box of raisins, we will never know.  It was small....

Thankfully, on the step to her apartment she found a much bigger ant carrying a small worm.  TWO NEW PETS!  She picked them up, separated them and said "One Two bugs!!! Gaga ~ one two bugs~ oh no! Bug sad!" and she once again demonstrated what the bug looked like with her version of a sad face. It didn't stop her from bringing the bugs into the building and watching them crawl on the bottom step.  The ant bit her ~ which ended the friendship with Avery giving me her sad face ~ so she decided to leave the ant on the floor and keep the worm. I think the worm died by the time we reached her apartment. Once we let the dog out of his cage, she had forgotten about bugs.

I love viewing life from the perspective of a 2 year old.  As we age we forget the beauty of simple pleasures. We are so busy doing "important things" that we stop paying attention to life around us. Why do we have to have our little friends remind us of simple things that bring so much joy?