second floor living without a yard

canned friendship

I'm excited about the weekend. In part, because I won't have any grading to do (okay, maybe a little, but nothing compared to the last two weeks). And, in part, because we are going to see John Stewart. With friends. Yup. That's right. We've found ourselves some friends... I think.

Making friends in D.C. has not been an easy prospect. In part, because we were spoiled. Both Mr. Beeton and I had fabulous friends in undergrad, and when we moved on to graduate school, we found equally fabulous friends. Since coming here, though, it's been hard to connect with people. My campus is an "urban institution," so many of the people that I work with live far outside the city - commuting to work is a problem for them let alone coming back to hang out. Mr. Beeton is finishing up at a school outside the city. His commute is long (though fun on his Stella scooter), but he doesn't much care for going back outside the city in the evenings or on weekends. Of course, we have a handful of people that we met through his old job, mostly graduate students in the Chemistry department (hence, our connection with The Chemist). But, they were all part of a previously established group, and while they are gracious enough to include us on their outings from time to time, an old, married couple like ourselves are not their top priority (nor should we be!). As a result, we spend a lot of our spare time in our railroad apartment, petting Ella, and wishing that we lived in Savannah so we could go out for some Thai food and drinks with friends.

I told Mr. Beeton that I had an idea. One of my favorite bloggers, Shauna James Ahern, had written recently about a canning party that she had. I thought we should put an ad on craigslist. Mr. Beeton said, No. He finds the people who come to our house to buy our old appliances and furniture, chatting about the design of our apartment, creepy.

So, instead, we are going to dinner with two people who seem interesting and fun. And, if it doesn't work out, there's always John at the end of the evening.

Keep sweeping, Martha

bon appetit

I have a confession to make. 

I went to see Julie and Julia.

Over a month ago.

And I haven't blogged about it.

I had intended to, of course. My plan was to see the movie, buy Mastering the Art of French Cooking, cook the now infamous boeuf bourguignon, and then blog about it. 

But, I kept getting foiled. First, I couldn't find the book. I went to a couple of bookstores in and around Georgetown, and Julia's tome was no where to be found. I then ordered it online. But, when it came, we had just made some sort of beef stew in the crock pot. And, while I know our crock pot concoction couldn't compare, Mr. Beeton and I were just not that hungry for beef. Then, I read the recipe. I got scared, mainly by the bacon. And the intensity. I thought I'd try something else. A chocolate souffle, raspberry bavarian cream. Each time, though, I chickened out. And, then the papers came, obscuring the entire dining room table. I think Julia's book might be buried underneath.

So, instead, I thought I'd blog about how I had intended to cook something from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. And how you should go see Julie and Julia. It's really, really good. I'd compare its goodness to the boeuf bourguignon, but as you know, I haven't gotten around to making it yet.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched Julie and Julia.

foiled again

It's been a rough week here in the railroad apartment. A bright spot, though, was an email we received indicating that there were three plots available at the community garden down the street. We were told to stop by, take a look, and rank our preferences. We did just that. And then the next night, we went back to look again, dreaming of rows of beans and plump tomatoes.

But, then today, we got another message, saying we'd been passed over in favor of those higher on the list who had responded after we did. You may remember we got our hopes up before, too. Maybe third time's a charm? Fingers crossed.

Keep sweeping, Martha

daily sweets

This week started off with a bang and is ending with a whimper, thankfully.

This summer, I wrote about how author, Joanne Rendell, contacted me about reading an advanced copy of her book, Crossing Washington Square. Monday night, we were very honored to host her on our campus for a reading. While the event itself went fabulously, the days leading up to her visit were not so smooth. They included a realization on Friday that no food had been ordered for the reception and a trip on Sunday to Georgetown Cupcake to cut in front of a crazy-long line to pick up three dozen of their tasty treats.

The madness was worth it, though. Joanne agreed to eat dinner with a few students at Figs on MacArthur Boulevard before heading over to her reading. She talked for a bit about the novel then called on a few eager students to assist her with the reading. Afterwards, the audience asked questions, enjoyed the cupcakes, and chatted informally with each other and with Joanne. Quite a few of my students came, as I had hoped. They read a piece ("Unschooling") in class by Joanne and were excited to see the face behind the words. The next night, I took a few up to the Borders in Friendship Heights where Joanne gave a repeat performance.

After the first event, I had a student email me to say that she had never before met an author whom she had to read in class. Her email ended with the declaration, "I love college." The second night, a male student (mind you, I teach a course themed around women's autobiography and, very often, my male students are a little disgruntled) told me that another male student, who had attended the reading the first night, texted him to say that it was "totally worth it" and that he should head up to the Borders if he had time. Sometimes, students can be so sweet.

The cupcakes, though... they were definitely the icing on a truly terrific two days.

Thanks, Joanne!

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watching Real Housewives of Atlanta and The Rachel Zoe Project. Not reading fast enough.

missin' the kitchen

Watched I Love You, Man, Coraline, Obsessed, the first 10 minutes of Gigli (rhymes with really), and Adventureland (4 stars).

mastering the art of the slow cooker

School starts. Monday. I can't believe how incredibly sad I am to see summer go. And how much summer stuff I still want to do. But, it's time to shift gears, make syllabi, attend faculty retreats.

Mr. Beeton and I tried our hand at some crockpot cooking in preparation for the school year ahead. For our wedding, we received an obscene, All-Clad Deluxe Slow Cooker (not on our registry). I was incensed. We have very little room in our railroad apartment for pots and pans, let alone a slow cooker that could easily feed twenty. Plus, I already had a lovely, small crockpot that my grandmother had given me. Mr. Beeton didn't want to exchange a gift we received for cash; he felt strongly about it. So, we kept it, and I fumed, frequently bringing it up in arguments that we'd have, even if those arguments weren't about slow cookers.

But, I made peace with it last winter. It's actually a fabulous way to cook a meal when you don't have a lot of time, and plus, it provides us with plenty of leftovers. During the school year, this is particularly ideal, so we are planning to put a slow-cooked meal into our regular weeknight rotation.

The recipe we tried the other night came from one of my mother's magazines. Overall, it turned out well, but I'd recommend adding an extra apple and, if you have the Super-Deluxe slow cooker, toning down the cooking time. Ours got a little mushy after six hours. Start it in the morning and eat it in the evening. That gives you a whole lot of time in between to work on that syllabus.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watching Entourage: Season Five.