Scones

Every time I see another cupcake shop, I hope that scones will be the next cupcake, the next edible fad to strike.  They are my one weakness among baked goods.  Ok, that’s a lie – there are many. But I do especially love scones. A couple weeks ago my roommate and I trekked all over downtown Lexington looking for scones to no avail. Magee’s was out (as they perpetually are), Belle’s was closed, and so was Sunrise Bakery. Finally, we consoled ourselves at Dunkin’ Donuts, far cry from the flaky perfection of a scone.  Last week we finally had scone success and made it to Belle’s before they closed.  Named after the daughter of the owners who has literally grown up in her namesake, this perfect hole in the wall bakery serves up scones that are practically the size of your face. The scone pictured above was the surprisingly good ham and cheese scone.

This was a long roundabout way to say that I have officially discovered one of the best homemade sweet scone recipes ever.  Last Saturday I had a baking extravaganza with one of my oldest and best friends, Susannah. We were making baked goods to take to our friend Rachel, who is basically a rock star by association. Suze is an AMAZING photographer and you can see her gorgeous photos of our baking/rock star adventure at her photo blog. If anyone feels inspired by her photos of our delicious scones (which you should), the original recipe for these cranberry citrus cream scones is here and then we added white chocolate chips and brushed the tops of the scones with egg whites and raw sugar before baking.

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Nathan and Emily

Last weekend I was able to return to Hillsdale, where spring had not yet arrived, but where I nevertheless found my heart warm. My whirlwind weekend was full of old friends, new faces, and walks that felts strangely familiar as I wandered around my former college campus. One of the highlights (other than a dinner composed entirely of Bumpy Cake ice cream from the Udderside, which — for those who have never been to the bustling metropolis that is Jonesville MI — is the best ice cream stand in the world) was taking these engagement photos. I knew Emily through a music organization that she belonged to and in which I was a member, though my actually qualifications for belonging were ever in question.  The gross rainy weather that is Michigan Spring paused just long enough for us to take a few pictures outside. 

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Gems from Grading

Ok, so spring break hasn’t been all perfect DC moments and pretty photos. I have also used this time off for some much needed grading.  I think my students may have even forgotten that they did some of these assignments, but I am proud to announce that I have now vanquished the pile of grading. For these few precious days, I have nothing to grade.  Watching TV without grading is exhilarating.

Though they are high schoolers, my students love drawing pictures or writing messages on the back of their tests.  Mine is the joy of discerning their drawings and reading their notes. One student drew an illustration of us riding horses together. Another deliberately turned in his essay late so that he could use it as an explanation for the prank he had had pulled on my classroom that morning, covering it in paper fish to celebrate Les poissons d’avril (April 1st in France starts the Fish of April).  I also received the following notes on the back of tests:

“Dear Miss Stone: I’m sorry that I am so bad at French. But I do enjoy your funny stories. Like the one when you smashed into your short friend at college in the lunch room because you were too tall to see her. And I also like your clothes. They are nice. I promise I won’t be creepy like Avery and remember what outfits you wear. Especially when I see you at the 10:10 service at Southland. So feel free to wear the same outfit on Monday that you wore on Sunday.”

“Dear Miss Stone: I hope you have fun in DC with your boy. I think he will probably ask you to marry him because you are supposed to bring a fancy smancy dress. You’ll probably meet Obama. He’ll probably get to witness this proposal buisness. And then he’ll hug you and you won’t ever take a shower because he touched you! But hopefully Mrs. Obama won’t get mad and beat you up. But it’s ok! HAVE FUN! But not too much fun.”

 

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Some Favorite Things

Being a teacher is officially the best job in the world. Yes, I sometimes hate grading, grow tired of students who want to know when they will ever use French (“You might not . . . that’s why it’s called a classical education. Maybe being smart and cultured and having brain that is capable of functioning in more than just texting acronyms is worthy in itself.”) and get frustrated with educational bureaucracy. But then there are snow days. And spring break. And summer break. And holidays. You get the idea.  Teachers are rewarded not just by enjoying their jobs on a daily basis, but by getting lots of time off from said enjoyment to revel in the rest of life.

I am over half-way through my spring break and it has been pure bliss.  I spent the first half of the break in DC visiting my boyfriend James. (Because he works in Congress he might get a spring break too starting next week . . . but of a somewhat less enjoyable nature.)  For any who haven’t been to our nation’s capitol, it is lovely, and never more so than in spring.   Here are the top 5 things I loved this last visit, in no particular order.

5. Daffodils. They are my favorite flower, probably because of their temporality. Daffodils insist on being appreciated in the moment because after a mere 3 weeks they wilt away. DC is delightfully green with daffodils blooming on every corner.

4. Primary Colors. You have missed them haven’t you?  Well they abound in DC, and this might just be my favorite children’s store because it adorns itself in sparkles and primary colors.

3. Cherry blossoms. Does it make me a sappy girl for putting two flowers on my top 5 list? I think that I read a book in grade school about a  Japanese girl who felt left out at school until her class went to DC and marveled at the cherry blossoms, Japan’s gift to the US.  Her classmates realized that different can be special and they embraced her presence among them, which wasn’t even necessary anymore because the little girl had already made peace within her own soul and found her place in the American melting pot.  All this is to say that I have very strong feelings toward these frothy spring blossoms without having ever seen them.  They were magical, and I apologize that these pictures don’t do them justice.

2. The Capitol itself.  Does it make me a sappy American for putting the seat of our government on my list? Regardless of if it does, I love it. If the news is right, this will become a ghost town Saturday morning, but on the perfect afternoon where I took this photo, it still gleamed like a symbol of the free world.

1.  Sweet Greens, Bistro Bis, Good Stuff Eatery, We the Pizza. So I am a foodie:  Amazing salads, French food so overwhelmingly perfect that I might have gone into sputters of joy at the table, toasted marshmellow milkshakes, and perfect pizza. Go forth and eat.

And of course, a final part of every DC visit that is so perfect that it surpasses every top 5 list imaginable:

 

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Christine and Craig

This past weekend I was in DC visiting my boyfriend.  One of the many joys of visiting him is that I get to stay with a one of my first friends from college, Christine.  Christine and I met on our first day of freshmen orientation, and as students from southern California and Kentucky, we bonded surviving our first year of Arctic Michigan Winter.  One month into our freshmen year, Christine went to a dance with a boy named Craig, bemoaning how it would be awkward, they didn’t really know each other, didn’t think they liked each other, etc.

Over the course of the next six years, they got past awkward, got to know one another, decided they liked each other, and last Thursday, Craig asked Christine to marry him.  We spent Saturday morning in Eastern Market taking engagement photos, despite a hailstorm and random downpours. Here are some of my favorites.

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Mediterranean Bean Salad

I love packing my lunch. There is a supreme satisfaction in having a lunchbox/ Kroger sack stashed away somewhere with a perfectly planned lunch.  I think it is the process of it that I like, the evening ritual of sandwich making, Tupperware, cling wrap, and little ziplock bags of grapes or crackers.  I also really like salads, but not always the typical lettuce, crouton, carrot shred deal. I prefer mixtures of veggies, pastas, etc, preferably sprinkled liberally with some sort of cheese.

Last fall the freshmen had some sort of Mediterranean ancient food party in history class. I love these parties because they inevitable mean that someone brings Mademoiselle Stone a snack.  One of my students made this salad and it is a favorite.

Mediterranean Bean Salad


Rinse and drain:

1 can black beans

1 can corn

1 can diced tomatos (or you can dice some of your own)

Dice:

1 red pepper

1+ green pepper

1 onion

Add 1 tbsp diced canned garlic. Crumble in however much feta you like. For me, this is a lot.

Combine all of the above and toss with a olive oil, grainy mustard, and lemon juice to taste.

Serve with pita chips.

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On the End of Yoga and the Brokenness of Language

Having successfully completed our 30 Day Shred, Amanda and I have moved onto, and very quickly grown tired of, Jillian Michael’s yoga. There is no danger of new age spiritual meditation when yoga-ing with Jillian, who yells only slightly less than she did when she was shredding us. I have to be frank: we are terrible at yoga.  I simply cannot hold myself in those positions without laughing at Amanda who looks equally ridiculous beside me. We found that we were replacing every move we didn’t like with our own yoga moves, christened Dead Dog, Beached Whale, and Prostrate Prayer Stance.  We did like sun salutations, and our new work out strategy consists in us reveling in this long awaited Kentucky spring by walking in the nearby park and giving sun salutations to every patch of daffodils we pass.

But the real reason for our workouts is that we just like to talk, and our favorite subject is the brokenness of language, the inability of today’s world to express what we mean.  I see it in the emails and texts (yes, texts) I get from my students, in the loss of eloquence from our world leaders, in the stark prose of modern writers.  Today at lunch my father astutely noted that today we like to claim that there are “no words to express what we are feeling.” Shakespeare, he argued would have found words to express them. We just fall short of the task.

But maybe there is a different sort of beauty in brokenness. The past hundred years didn’t produce Shakespeares, or Miltons, or Spensers.  But then I read poets like e.e. cummings, whose works turn the shards of language into a perfect mosaics. I leave you with one such poem.

“being to timelessness as it’s to time”

 

being to timelessness as it’s to time,

love did no more begin than love will end:

where nothing is to breathe to stroll to swim

love is the air the ocean and the land

 

(do lovers suffer? all divinities

proudly descending put on deathful flesh:

are lovers glad? only their smallest joy’s

a universe emerging from a wish)

 

love is the voice under all silences,

the hope which has no opposite in fear:

the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:

the truth more first than sun more last than star

 

– -do lovers love? why then to heaven with hell.

whatever sages say and fools, all’s well.

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Joy’s Macarons

I have been remiss in posting and in thanks, so here is a long overdue blog to Joy Schultz who was inspired to go out an make some macarons and then send them to me for some feedback.  She, however, did not commit the fateful wax paper mistake that effectively destroyed my macarons, and so hers were perfect. I think they are by far the best ones I have had since leaving France.  She followed this recipe, used my chocolate ganache recipe for some, and then improvised a delicious orange butter-cream filling for some others.  These pictures don’t give justice to how beautiful they were, and the raspberry ones aren’t even shown because I devoured them before I could even think to snap a picture.   Thanks Joy!

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Second Family

When you go to college in Michigan, sometimes your greatest thought is how to get out for all vacations that occur during the winter months, i.e. November-April.  My sophomore year of college my group of friends was obsessed with the idea of going to Florida for Spring Break, but it just kept looking impossible, as one detail after another fell through.  Finally, in a last moment of desperation, we decided to go instead to a friend’s grandmother’s home in Arizona.

And that was where everything changed.

We spent a perfect week in the sun, enjoying floating in the pool, hiking mountains and having close encounters with rattle snakes, eating large quantities of delectable items, and shopping like there was no tomorrow.  It was the perfect rejuvenating experience we all needed.

But what remains in my memories even more than the particulars of what we did on that trip was how I got to know the family we went with, the Schulers. I have stayed close with them since that trip, and they are a second surrogate family, as they are to many young adults. One summer I even lived with them as I interned at the Cincinnati Art Museum.  It was a defining summer, where I came home from the museum each day to process where I was going in my future on the back porch over a glass of bubbly or a bowl of guacamole (a Schuler specialty).  On one occasion, we even went out and had an impromptu photo shoot with the daughter and her boyfriend.

I am putting up some pictures of this fun photo-shoot, partially because Genevieve is beautiful in everyway and I am supposed to be blogging about art and beauty, but also because I just bought my plane tickets for a return reunion trip to Arizona over Easter and I am so excited that I had to post something!

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They have eaten on the insane root

Perhaps it is this unremitting winter, or perhaps it is the inconsistent schedule due to snow days, or maybe it is something in the water, but whatever the case, reason has been taken prisoner.  High school students are always prone to bouts of insanity, but these past two weeks have been especially full of the bizarre, the rebellious, and the unexplainable.  Still, I am sure that my students at their worse don’t compare with truly awful pupils.  The rebellion and defiance exhibited at our school is often humorous . . . long after the fact. Here are some examples:

-I recently had to punish a class for repeated attempts to sing in harmony with the radiator’s droning while I was trying to explain the passé composé.  One kid looked back at me and quipped: “How can you blame us – it’s hitting a perfect ‘do’!”

-Somewhere along the line my students decided to start removing their clothes during class. Often I feel that I have to remind students to remain clothed all too frequently for a classical Christian school.

-The best reason I have heard from a student for not having his copy of the poem that his class was memorizing: “Well you see, I was recently hiking on a quest through the Alps and on my 4th day of my journey I came across a very hungry yak. Unlike most ordinary yaks, this one could only live off of poems.  I stood there unsure of what to do and he started bleating ‘Poem . . POOOOOEEEEEEMMM!!!!’ So to avoid animal yak cruelty, I had to feed him my poem.”  This reason was closely seconded by another student that informed me that his homework was unfortunately “In my other pants.”

Funny though these students are, I (along with all the teachers) have been pulling at my hair lately about how to reassert mid-year authority. In my classes, I have implemented the ancient system of bribing them. Ok, not really bribing, just tangible edible incentives. They start the day with 5 m&m’s in a Dixie cup and every time a single word is spoken in English, I take one and dramatically eat it in front of them.  Each week I am decreasing the number of candy pieces by one.  The result is that we have total silence, or French being spoken.  At this point in the year I am fine with either.

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