'Tis the Season...

...no, not football season. Sadly, not baseball season. Not any particular holiday season. And definitely not watermelon season, despite what's in the grocery store.

'Tis the season for political ads, endless polling, and vicious backstabbing.

I just thought I was sick of the mushy, tear-jerking Olympic-themed commercials. I was ready to throw something at the television every time that little girl started bragging about all the things her mom does (where is her mom, anyway...not in any of the pictures with the girl...but I digress). Determined to walk out if I saw another adorable home movie of future Olympians skiing/skating/sliding backwards. Looking for the "mute Bob Costas" button on my remote (until he got pink eye, then I felt bad about that). And don't get me started on the Sonic guys and their stupid pretzel dog...take that whichever way you like.

And then all of that was eclipsed by a sudden torrent of political ads. Everyone has his sleeves rolled up, looks eager to make sure he represents ME (I'm betting he doesn't) and takes credit for all kinds of stuff (last time I checked, one guy cannot pass a law). The attack ads are so ugly...enough to make me check the perpetrator (not the object of the ad) off my list before learning anything more about him. An awful lot of them are using God as a campaign partner, and how can we determine if their comments are genuine or just crafted to appeal to a specific voter demographic?

And now, in addition to interrupting figure skating, these people are calling me on the phone. Some call for themselves and others call on behalf of a very qualified buddy who is running for office. Some want me to push buttons even though they are talking to my answering machine, and I'm hearing them 8 hours later. It's like junk mail, with voices. This is an actual transcript (almost) of what was on my machine one day this week:

"You have eight new messages...

• Message 1. Pause. (booming, confident voice) HELLO! This is Bob Somebody, and I want to be your DELETE
• Message 2. (female computer voice, starting in the middle of a sentence) you will not vote, press 1. If you might vote, press 2. If you didn't know there was an election, press DELETE
• Message 3. (voice of school principal) Parents, this is just a reminder that DELETE (I have already gotten this call on my cell phone. Twice.)
• Message 4. (background noise from an overcrowded loud place, presumably a bustling campaign headquarters...people talking, but not to me) DELETE
• Message 5. Pause. (cheerful, pleasant woman) Do not be alarmed. Several recent break-ins in your neighborhood have prompted us to bring you this special DELETE
• Message 6. (man who sounds like he is wearing a tightly knotted tie) Good afternoon. I'm someone whose name sounds vaguely familiar, and this is not about me. My good friend Jim Guy is running for district judge and DELETE
• Message 7. (computerized voice of my city, which calls often with alerts) Kennedale residents, several streets will be closed today between 9am and 4pm for water main repairs. We apologize for any inconven DELETE (I am hearing this at 5:30)
• Message 8. (same female computer voice that called earlier, starting again in the middle of a sentence) take less than 60 seconds of your time. If you will not vote, press 1. If you might DELETE

End of messages."

Why, I wonder, do I even have this phone? No actual people have called it -- just computers or robots or phone systems. Most of the time when it rings and I'm home, I don't answer...especially when the caller ID reads "POLITICAL CALL." That one has called several times and, oddly, doesn't leave a message. Are they really surprised that I don't pick up? No, wait...it's a machine. Now if my caller ID said Jimmy Fallon was calling, that might get my attention.

Have you driven past an early voting place? Talk about ground clutter! The signs are so packed in that I couldn't read them if I tried. If I'm ever stopped long enough to read a few, I'm really just looking to see if anyone I used to go to school with -- or any facebook friend -- is running.

Back to the Olympics, I turn on the television and am stunned to see that young polar bears drink Coke. That can't be good. Nor can the soda machine that mysteriously operates in the middle of an otherwise pristine snowy landscape. And if I scream in that woods, will anyone hear me?

You Don't Have to Be Crazy - no actually you do...

I love watching the winter Olympics. Figure skating is my favorite event but there are several events that I like to watch. The problem with figure skating is the politics of it. The people that are favored coming in more often than not are the ones that win - unless they just totally face plant or they obviously stink it up. Even then sometimes it seems to go their way. Apparently it's a sport that you have to pay your dues before you can medal. Gone are the tame Dick Button days. Now the men do quadruple jumps and probably it won't be long before the first woman performs a quad.

Pairs skating is fun to watch but also terrifying. I don't know how you can trust someone enough to allow them to throw you through the air so you can turn 3 (sometimes 4) times in the air and then land without breaking your butt. Also the lifts - good grief. That girl has a long way to fall if she is dropped. Of course if she falls and is dropped on her head she can always compete in skeleton (more on that later.) I trust Paul implicitly but I would never allow him to throw me through the air (not that he could.) I'm trying to picture the coach and choreographer trying to convince someone to do some of the things that they do. It's unreal.

Don't worry I'll probably catch you.

That's going to leave a mark.

WTH?

Then there is skiing. I really, really, really dislike skiing. So when I see these crazy people careening down the slopes at 80 mph I wonder what part of their head hit the floor first when they were dropped on their head as a child. I guess it must be a major adrenaline rush. I prefer to get my adrenaline pumping by racing to the donuts at QT. To each his own I guess.

You can lose your head skiing.

Yikes!

At least the outfits are pretty...ugly.

Perhaps the craziest event of all is skeleton. Seriously, bat shit crazy. I know - I've got a great idea! How about if you lay down on a sled head first and fly down a twisting, curving course at 80 mph? What could possibly go wrong?

This perhaps?

But you get to wear awesome helmets.

Sorry, wrong skeleton.

I guess that is maybe why we love the Olympics so much. People do crazy stuff and we can watch it from the safety of our couch. People do amazing things and we can marvel at them from the safety of our couch. People do beautiful, elegant things and we can enjoy them from the safety of our couch. I really love my couch. It's safe. It might not be amazing, beautiful, or elegant but it's safe. If only I could medal in channel surfing...

You've Gotta Have Friends.

My teenage years were spent working at Six Flags over Texas (SFOT) every summer. SFOT was the great equalizer because everyone wore uniforms. REALLY. UGLY. UNIFORMS. One year we had to wear cowboy hats, cowboy boots, browns skorts (obviously not the boys) and these ugly brown plaid shirts. They were made out of some material that ensured there would be absolutely no circulation. If you put a bunch of these uniforms on the roof of your home in place of solar panels you could provide energy for the entire neighborhood. If you wore make-up it melted off by morning and you also ended up with really bad hat hair. Most of the park was covered in black asphalt and you could just feel the heat generated all the way through your boots. And...it was the best job EVER!

Yes...we were hot.hot.hot!

It's really difficult to describe how great this place was. I met so many people and made life long friends. We worked hard, worked long hours, and survived the heat wave of 1980! That was the first "Beat the Heat" mantra - now it means something different. Stupid LeBron James and Dwyane Wade. Anyway, I digress.

Somehow, 8 of us formed a really close bond. When we were 17 and 18 (4 were 17 and 4 were 18) we convinced our parents to allow us to go to San Antonio together. We were dubbed the 'San Antonio 8'. Thirty five years later we are still together! Six of us are still local and 2 are out of state.

The San Antonio 8 - now

The San Antonio 8 - then

At some point in my 20's I tried to read the book Passages by Gail Sheehy. It was incredibly boring so I never got anywhere near finishing it. I think part of the reason I couldn't read it is because in my 20's I really hadn't experienced these "passages." The local 6 got together for dinner the other night and I realized how many passages each of us have experienced together. By saying this I am making up my own passages or phases of our lives. 

I looked at each one of these lovely women and thought of all that we had been through together. In our teens we weathered many broken hearts and were always there for each other when these break-ups happened. In our 20's we started getting married and having children. We've been through the loss of siblings, loss of a spouse, and loss of parents. We've weathered divorces and 2 of our own moving far away. Some of us are now experiencing the difficulty of helping an aging parent.

These girls KNOW me. They know my past (and they're still my friends!) They know things that no one else knows about me. In fact, I have to keep Beth happy because she is the only one that can help me reconstruct my late teens and 20's. 

On an episode of The Big Bang Theory, Penny asked Bernadette and Amy when they thought you became an adult. That's a tough question. I'm thinking maybe it's when you go from talking about boys to talking about cleaning products for the toilet (and yes - we have had that conversation!) Now we are talking about our bifocals! Time passages!

I can't think of a better group of women to experience the next phase of our lives.

Here we are posing in the same position as our first SA8 photo.

I hope the day will be a lighter highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travellers to go

Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything's all right

It seems to me a crime that we should age
These fragile times should never slip us by
A time you never can or shall erase
As friends together watch their childhood fly

Let's Eat : Garlic-Roasted Cauliflower

Haven't you always loved cauliflower?

Yeah, me neither. White. Not that much flavor. Odd-looking. Too bulky to fit into the vegetable keeper. Traditionally overcooked and covered in some kind of suspiciously fake-food cheese sauce to make it more appealing. Something to definitely pass over at the salad bar!

Well, I've changed my mind about cauliflower. Once I tried Garlic-Roasted Cauliflower from Ina Garten's "How Easy is That?" cookbook, it was all over. This recipe has amazing flavor, thanks to the garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, fresh parsley and toasted pine nuts. The first time I made it, my husband and I ate an entire head of cauliflower. The next time, we let the kids taste it and nearly fought over the last few pieces.

Before roasting --

And the finished dish! I can almost smell it...yum.

Maybe the best part of this recipe is how easy it is to make. A little chopping and a little tossing is all it takes. Here's her recipe, modified to reflect the way I make it:

Ina's Garlic-Roasted Cauliflower, Sharon's Way

1 head of garlic
1 large head (or 2 small ones) cauliflower, trimmed, cut into large florets
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
3 tablespoons pine nuts

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice 
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Separate the cloves of garlic and peel them. Cut large cloves in half.

3. On a sheet pan, toss the cauliflower with garlic, 3 tablespoons olive oil, 2 teaspoons salt and 1 teaspoon pepper. Spread mixture out in a single layer and roast, tossing after 15 minutes and adding the pine nuts at that time. Continue cooking for 10 minutes or so, until the cauliflower is tender and garlic and pine nuts are lightly browned.

4. Scrape the cauliflower into a large bowl with garlic and pan juices (I do not normally have any pan juices, but Ina thinks I should!). Add remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, parsley, pine nuts and lemon juice. Sprinkle with another 1/2 teaspoon salt, toss and serve hot or warm.

Now a regular vegetable in our repertoire, cauliflower has been forever transformed from "ew" to "ah!" -- my whole family is actually excited when it's on the menu. Which helps to prove my theory that there really aren't bad vegetables...just bad ways to fix them. Roasting is a delicious way to fix so many vegetables, and I hope you'll try this one!