My Easter Birthday

Easter 1951: Susan Nicklet, Mary (Lewis) Nicklet (mother), and Nancy Nicklet.
Photographed in all likelihood by Robert Nicklet (father).

Here I am in 1951--four years old. The back of the photograph says that it is Easter, and my sister Nancy and I are definitely looking at our Easter baskets from that year, though we don't seem overly impressed. Easter Sunday in 1951, I have just verified, fell on March 25, so I must have actually been four years old minus two days for this picture. I believe the photo must have been taken in the living room of our house on Chestnut Street in Sidney, Ohio, a house of which I have only a handful of real, lasting  memories, for we moved from that home to a new house on Campbell Road within a year or so. 

It was probably a few years later, when I became school age, that I learned that Easter was a movable holiday, dependent on natural forces and religious traditions that I did not understand. Easter did not come again in March until 1959, when it fell on March 29--two days after my birthday. Perhaps it was that year that I found a table that showed when Easter Sunday would fall for years in the future.  It was not as easy then as looking on the Internet. I wanted to find out if my birthday, March 27, would ever coincide with Easter Sunday in my lifetime.

Over the years I forgot the answer, because it wasn't going to happen for a long, long time. This year, Easter Sunday coincided with my birthday--for the first time, I thought--but when I went back to the Easter calendar, I discovered that it had happened once before, as recently as 2005. 

I have no recollection of the 2005 birthday and Easter. We were living in Spain then, in Roquetas de Mar. It was before I started writing my blog Sundays in Spain, and before I had found the handy-dandy Spanish agendas that I used as a datebook and diary (starting in 2006, I discovered to my chagrin when I went looking for them today). Perhaps this was the year that we went to some of the traditional Spanish Semana Santa observances in our small town, or maybe we took a bike ride along the seacoast to Aguadulce that day. At any rate, I am sure that "we" were just my husband and myself, none of my birth family.

Yesterday I was blessed to be in the heart of family; my three sisters and cousins Kathy and Katy and John all assembled at Nancy's for a lovely spring luncheon of quiche, hearty salads, eggs, angel food birthday cake and fruit, and a bunch of other extras, too. Nancy brought forth a handful of old family photos, mostly of her and myself. One was the print of the digitized photo above, now 65 years old. I remember that when as a child I first checked on Easter dates and learned when Easter would fall on my birthday, I had thought, "But I'll be an old lady by then!"

So I guess by my older standard I was an old lady yesterday, and am an even older one today! But I am not yet as old as I will be the next time Easter falls on my birthday: 2027. Now, there is a propitious year for a March 27 Easter birthday. And if I make it that far--I probably will be an old lady by then. 

The Mind Set To Rhythm

Two members of the Cincinnati-based music group The Mind Set To Rhythm did a marvelous thing yesterday. They came to sing and play a private farewell concert for my dear brother-in-law Phil in the hospice facility where he has been since last Monday.

Just two weeks ago three members of the group had shown up at St. John's Unitarian Universalist Church to play "Lady Bird," a modern jazz classic by Tadd Dameron, specially requested by Phil, as the offertory. Phil knows a lot about jazz and its intricate structures, and loves it, and this was the way he chose to say thank you and farewell to the church friends who had been a special part of his life for the last several years. In addition to "Lady Bird" that Sunday, we were treated to Cole Porter's  "Night and Day" after the service, and that got the entire congregation up dancing.

Yesterday there was no dancing, but Will played on the keyboard and Molly sang "All of You," "Embraceable You,"  and "My Funny Valentine," and concluded again with "Night and Day." Phil enjoyed the music more than the lyrics of most pieces, but the lyrics of these classic love songs seemed particularly poignant at this time. Nancy held Phil's hand, while he and Abie (their lovable and loving bundle of dog fur) snuggled quietly together. It truly seemed that Phil could hear the music, and once or twice his feet fluttered on the bedsheets as if in dance.

I had intended to link the songs to their lyrics or to a suitable video, but after much exploration I could not choose among the numerous renditions of these classics. Just as well, as probably no version could compare to the feeling in Phil's room yesterday as a lovely young couple sang for my sister and her husband as they approached the "till death do us part" part of the vows they had made together nearly 40 years earlier.

And I have been playing with the words of the band, The Mind Set To Rhythm. Phil had an incredible mind that he often set to music and rhythm (yesterday we were still trying to figure out his explanation of the "flatted fifth," and Molly helped us). Just as often he set his mind to the question of time and quantum physics, as well as a myriad of other interests, occasionally including history and the social studies that he taught for many years. And as the end approached he set his mind with determination and marched onward, and we are all the richer for having shared a piece of the journey with him.

An OLLI Sampler

I have written about OLLI before, the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute for senior learning, held in this city by the University of Cincinnati, and in other cities by other entities. The Winter 2016 session is coming to a close, but I cannot let it fade away (to be replaced by the Spring session, whose catalog has already arrived in the mail and online) without acknowledging my gratitude for the way it enriches my life. I did not sign up for any weekly courses this term; instead I selected a whole slew of one-session lectures on various topics. These lectures are held at three different locations in the city: Adeth Israel on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from 12:10 to 1:30; Sycamore Senior Center on Wednesdays, from 9:30 to noon; and Llanfair Retirement Center on Friday mornings from 9:30 to noon. I have been busy one or more days for the last seven weeks (minus the two that I was out of town on vacation). This weekend I cleaned out my winter handbag in preparation for exchanging it for a spring bag, and in the process I pulled out scraps of notes from a number of my OLLI lectures. I'm one of those people who  learns and remembers best by taking notes, on paper or on the iPad, but I rarely go back to read the notes again. Glancing through these however, was a pleasant reminder of the diversity of topics to which I had been exposed this term.

The Freestore Foodbank is the granddaddy of food kitchens in Cincinnati, having begun 45 years ago. It employs 115 individuals and is supported by 9200 volunteers to serve customers in 20 counties in the tri-state area via 250 food pantries. 70% of its customers are working, but not earning enough to purchase proper food for their families. Federal guidelines say that "food salvage businesses" of this type should allow customers to acquire food sufficient for three days; the Freestore Foodbank aims for 7 days.

I heard about the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement, and how it distributes aid around the world in times of disaster while maintaining a policy of impartiality and neutrality. The local unit of the national society of the American Red Cross has been particularly effective in  tracking family members of refugees and Holocaust victims. Our speaker asserted that 91 cents of every donated dollar goes to direct client services, which is a higher figure than for many charities. We also learned of the four Geneva Conventions that haste defined rights during armed conflict.

This week I was uplifted by a three-hour program of live music:. We started off with the Queen City Klezmorim, who played a fabulous collection of in turn haunting and happy klezmer songs on the clarinet, violin, tuba and bass, piano, and drums. Then on to the Marzan Brass Quintet, who started out with "Down by the Riverside" and included a number of other tunes, some as old as the late middle ages. I was seated in the second row and was really intrigued to be able to watch the three fingers of the trumpet player synchronize perfectly to play true notes.  The Highlandaires concluded the program, and though I had to leave early, I enjoyed this nine-piece dance band and walked out to the strains of "When the Saints Go Marching In."

I also had notes from a full morning talk about the wonders of growing plants indoors without soil: hydroponics. I learned almost as much about the nutrients needed for good plant health as I know about nutrition for humans. We also saw a hydroponic installation at the LLanfair center, where the chefs use herbs in their kitchen. This was an import ant presentation, because although I was attracted to the idea of growing herbs indoors in an apparatus like the one we saw, I had to admit that I was not up to the rigors of managing the indoor farm on a daily basis--thus saving myself an outlay of $1000 or so and another opportunity to feel guilty about my imperfections.

I think I have pretty much moved away from the public speaking that I had to do during the height of my career, thank goodness, but I still enjoyed a presentation on "Be a Better Speaker in (Almost) One Easy Lesson." The moderator modeled her tips perfectly and held my attention so well that I had no need to take notes, but I did enjoy the excellent half-page handout she distributed at the end of her talk and will keep it in mind if I have the opportunity to speak in any of my volunteer groups.

I attended a short lecture on "Mature Driving" a couple weeks ago and learned that I-75 opened in 1959 through downtown Cincinnati, with a median strip of trees that lasted a half year before dying of gas fumes. There is an ALICE disaster preparation session this week, to which I am looking forward with trepidation, as well as  something called "England Inside Out" and a session on the "Value of Art," postponed from one of the snow days in the term.

I'm already scanning the catalog for the next term of OLLI courses and preparing for exposure to some things that I never ever imagined I would be able to learn about so easily.

Celebrating Leap Day

A story for children of all ages, by Hans Christian Andersen

Hans Christian Andersen, 1805-1875

Once upon a time, the days of the week wanted to cut loose, get together, and have a party. Every day was so busy that throughout the year they never had any free time left over; they needed a whole day. And  then they realized they had one every four years: Leap Day, which is added to February every leap year to keep order in the calendar.

So they decided to get together on February 29 for the party, and since February is also the month of Mardi Gras and Carnival, they decided to show up in carnival costumes of their own choice and inclination. They would eat well, drink well, make speeches, and tell each other the good and the bad in open friendship. In the old days, the Vikings tossed gnawed bones at each others’ heads during a banquet; the days of the week, on the other hand, would pelt each other with puns and sharp satire, all in the innocent spirit of carnival fun.

Leap day came, and so did the days of the week.

Sunday, the chairman of the days, showed up in black silk. Pious people might think that he was dressed as a minister going to church, but the worldly saw that he was dressed in festive garb to go out on the town, and that the red carnation he had in his button hole was a symbol of the little red light that they turn on at the theater ticket box to indicate that a performance has no empty seats: “All sold out! Now be sure to have a good time, everyone!”

Monday, a young person and a relative of Sunday, and very fun-loving, followed behind. He left work, he said, at the changing of the guard. “I must go out to hear the music of Offenbach,” he said. “It doesn’t go to my head or to my heart; it tickles my leg muscles, and then I must dance, have some drinks, get a black eye, sleep it off, and then go back to work the next day. I am the youngster in the week.”

Tuesday is the day of the bull, the day of strength. “Yes, that’s me,” said Tuesday. “I do my work with a firm hand. I put Mercury’s wings on the shopkeepers’ boots, see that the factory wheels are well-oiled and turning, make sure that the tailor is sitting at his bench and the street repairmen are repairing the streets. Everyone does his job! I oversee everything, and that is why I am dressed in a police uniform and call myself Polituesday. If that is a bad pun, you try to find one that is better!”

“Now  it’s my turn,” said Wednesday. “I stand in the middle of the week. The Germans call me Herr Mittwoch (Mr. Midweek).  I stand as the floorwalker in the shop, like a flower in between the other honorable days of the week. When we all march together I have three days in front of me and three days behind me; it’s like an honor guard. I just have to believe that I am the most esteemed day in the week.”

Thursday came dressed as a copper smith with a hammer and copper kettle, the symbols of his noble descent. “I am of the highest birth. Pagan and divine.  In the northern European countries I am named for Thor, and in the southern countries for Jupiter. They both knew how to thunder and lighten, and this remains in the family!” Then he banged on his copper kettle to show his great nobility.

Friday was dressed as a young girl and called herself Freya, and also sometimes Venus (it depends on which language was used in whatever country she happened to be in). She was usually quiet and mild, she said, but today she was smart and lively. After all it was leap day, and that frees women. So she can dare, according to the old custom, to take the initiative to propose and not wait to be proposed to.

Saturday turned up as an old housekeeper with broom and cleaning supplies. Her favorite dish was beer and bread porridge, but she didn’t insist, at this festive occasion, that it be set on the table for everyone, just for her. And she got it.

Then the days of the week took their places at the table.

Now all seven have been presented for a family tableau. We give them here simply as a jest in February, the only month that has an extra day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) was a prolific Danish author in many genres, but is known today mostly for his tales told to children. This is one of the lesser-known of the 212 eventyrer. “Ugedagene” was published in 1872; the first mentions of the story in Andersen’s diary are in March of 1868, a leap year. Translated from the Danish by Susanne Bjørner with reference to an English translation by Jean Hersholt (1886-1956).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday Dinner, South African Style

We entertained today with a special dinner benefiting St. John's Unitarian Universalist Church. I had been thinking about offering this dinner to their annual fund-raiser auction since we visited Cape Town last August. I bought a cookbook there, the West Coast Cookbook, which is a cultural treasure. From this volume, I learned more about South African fish than I could ever put into practice, sad to say.

I read through the fall and winter months and soon realized that I had made a small error. All those great fish recipes were wonderful, but they required fish that I had never heard of! I should have realized that the fish off the west coast of South African were nothing like the ones I knew from New England, the seas around Denmark, or even from the Mediterranean coast of Spain. There were detailed descriptions of angelfish, galjoen, kingclip, and snoek, but the only one I recognized was hake, which this said was commonly called stockfish.  The first fish recipe I tried was "St. Helena Bay fish pie," a deep-dish baked fish casserole with mashed potato topping. It called only for "white fish fillets," and I found fillet of flounder. The best part of this effort was the mashed potato topping! The West Coast Cookbook makes large recipes--most for eight people--and I served this pie twice for our dinner, gave away one helping, and threw the rest in the trash! I think the problem was that I used frozen founder, and both the freezing and the lack of body in the flat flounder contributed to little taste. Looking at the recipe now, I can see how I might tackle it again differently,

In the meantime, however, I found "Fish Soup in a Potjie,"and since a potjie pot is one of the utensils that is unique to South Africa, and since I had brought a spice mix called potjiekos back with me, I next tried that. Learning from experience, I made half a recipe to start with. This recipe requires "1 kg whole Hottentot or any line fish," and I wondered what "line fish" is (one that is caught on a fishing line as opposed to gathered up in a net? No matter, I decided on cod, nice full-bodied fresh cod, possibly frozen before it reached the fish counter in my market, but at least showing no signs of a frozen state when it came to my eyes. The recipe also called for cooking the soup with the head of the fish in it, and removing the head before serving. Well, I never even saw the head and I don't think anyone is any the worse for it. This soup turned out to be a winner--my favorite brother-in-law told me today it was the highlight of the dinner--but not without some alteration on my part, including a boost with Knorr seafood bouillon that I found in Portugal, and the addition of a generous two teaspoons of that potjiekos spice (with no package indication of its ingredients, but it certainly includes pepper) I had brought back from South Africa.

My highlight of the dinner however, was the bobotjie, which had been my first meal in Cape Town, and one of the best. I didn't find a meat bobotjie recipe in this west coast cookbook, but I found several on the Internet; I tried this recipe out twice ahead of time and made only one small change in the method. So with the fish soup and bobotjie, I had my first and main courses set, but I continued to read from the cookbook for accompaniments. As I read through the various recipes, I noted several that said "often served on Sunday." It seemed only natural, then, to make this gift dinner a Sunday dinner experience. We did, with guests arriving shortly after their morning gatherings, and we had a very pleasant afternoon of different food and interesting conversation. The topics touched on several countries in the southern hemisphere, teaching from kindergarten to college level, astronomy, physics, time travel, mushrooms, hallucinogens, church, and Jesus, plus several more when I was in the kitchen. Here is the final menu of what we ate and drank:

Sunday Dinner,  South African Style

Welcome

Wine: The Royal Chenin Blanc

Valley Vineyards, South Africa

First Course

Fish Soup in a Potjie

Yellow Pumpkin Bread

Wine: Goats do Roam, 2014

Fair Vineyards, South Africa

Main Course

Bobotjie

Spiced minced beef pie with egg topping

Yellow Rice with Raisins

Green Bean Salad

Beetroot and Onion Salad

 Wine: The Royal Pinotage Shiraz, 2013

Valley Vineyards, South Africa

Dessert

Melktert

A custard tart with more milk than egg

South Africans celebrate National Milk Tart Day on February 27 each year.

Crème de Menthe Liqueur

"The Last of the 60s!"

 

The Sisters in the '60s

   


Yesterday was the last day that the four "Nicklet girls" could all honestly say that their age was sixty-something. We were four daughters who grew up together in a small town in Ohio and then all went our very separate ways for the next 40-some years. One by one we have now reassembled in Cincinnati and live close to, but not with, each other. So on this last day that we could all claim to be in our sixties, we celebrated with a "Last of the 60s" party.

The Sisters in Their 60s

If you've done the math, or if you are from our era, you know that we all spent some of our youth during the 1960s. Our menu, therefore, was based on '60s food favorites and products that were introduced during the decade. You may be surprised to know how many products were launched in the '60s and are still going strong (as we are, of course!).

Appetizers

Lipton French onion soup and sour cream dip

Ruffles potato chips (1964)

Pringles (Proctor & Gamble, 1969)

Bugles (General Mills, 1964)

Easy Cheese (Nabisco, 1966)

Carrots, celery and radishes (the only fresh vegetables we ate regularly)

Stuffed eggs

Main Course

Tuna casserole with frozen peas (introduced by Green Giant in 1961), Mikesells (local brand) potato chips, and of course, Campbell's cream of mushroom soup

Heart-shaped Jello fruit molded salad on lettuce leaf

Crescent rolls and refrigerator biscuits (Pillsbury, 1959)

Dessert

Apple crumb pie (Pet-Ritz Frozen Pie Crust, 1962) with Granny Smith apples (introduced in the USA in 1960) and topped with Cool Whip (launched by General Foods in 1965)

Beverages

Ocean Spray Cran-Apple Fruit Juice (1965)

Diet Pepsi (1965) and Sprite (1961)

(both in tab-opening aluminum cans, first sold in 1962)

Tang (General Foods, 1964)

Taster's Choice freeze-dried coffee (Nestle, 1966)

Cremora (from Borden in 1963)

I tried very hard to find 3.2 beer, which was the only beer that we would have drunk in the '60s if we drank anything alcoholic at all, which we didn't. Research told me, however, that 3.2 beer disappeared from Ohio in 1982.  Fortunately, one of us had a "leftover" bottle of champagne, and that was enjoyed by all.

This party was  made even more fun by reference to The Food Timeline, http://www.foodtimeline.org/fooddecades.html#60snewproducts.

We appreciate the good cheer and support shared by our husbands and brothers-in-law, Phil Henry and Johannes Bjorner.

Portugal Holiday

We returned this past Friday from a two-week holiday in Portugal. Although we lived in Spain for ten years, we had never made it to Portugal, Spain's western neighbor on the Iberian peninsula. From our time in Spain, we knew we were not going to a tropical paradise--I wrote too often about how cold the winters were in Spain. But we expected sun and light and somewhat warmer temperatures than those that had recently begun to creep into Cincinnati. We were right for most of the time.

Our first two nights were in Lisbon, where we had a beautiful and comfortable hotel within walking distance of the port and the Bairro Alto (the upper neighborhood), where we enjoyed the views, good fish, and fado music. We thought Cincinnati was hilly, but the Cincinnati hills have nothing on those in Lisbon. We walked up and we walked down. I felt it in my legs the next day when I woke up. In fact, my calves did not get back to normal for an entire week. When we moved to Porto on the third day of our holiday, we discovered hills there, too. Lots of them.

In Porto we had a fantastic apartment with cooking facilities and an open kitchen and living room, in addition to the bedroom and bath.  We liked it so much that we immediately extended our planned three-day visit to six. We were conveniently located in the Cathedral area, a stone's throw from the São Bento train station. It served as a great  central point for our walks down to the port area (and then back up), two excursions on the yellow hop-on, hop-off city bus tour, a day trip to Guimarães, the birthplace of the Portuguese nation, a metro ride to the Casa de Música for a Carnaval concert the Sunday night before Ash Wednesday, and daily trips to the nearby grocery store for provisions for breakfast and our evening meals.

Surprisingly, we started to get little drizzles of rain the last day we were in Porto, and the cloudy weather continued after we returned to Lisbon for three more nights.  Our apartment near the Santa Apolónia station wasn't quite as nice as the one we had in Porto, but it was adequate, and we had two days there to see a different part of the city. The last day we took a local train out to Gare do Oriente to be close to the airport for an early flight the following morning. This is a modern and bustling new part of the city, and we enjoyed the shopping mall and seeing the outside of the convention center.

It was a relaxing trip, one we needed after the intense preceding month, and we find that with this vacation we no longer race around trying to see as much as we can see. One planned sightseeing or cultural event a day, a meal out, shopping for and preparing a meal in, keeping up with emails and Facebook (Johannes posted most about our sightseeing), some reading, writing, TV, or iPad games is about the right speed.

We came home refreshed and pretty much relaxed.