Author Archives: kallie

A Time Travelers Guide to Camping

September 14, 2021

Growing up, I went to an all girl’s Catholic high school. There we were, all of us in our matching plaid uniform skirts, at the knee. Okay, most of us. Maybe. Earrings and shoes, our only fashion accessories. I won’t lie, it was nice to not have to think about what to wear every day, and just spend your time focused on other things. It must be why to this day I still like plaid and the orderly look of a uniform. But I am not here to talk about school uniforms. Today, I am sharing a different kind of story.

Back to high school.

While there, I became friends with two girls that had an almost identical experience growing up as I did but in another language. From the moment of their birth, it was a full on ethnic immersion. A couple of American-born girls, who were as Latvian as I was Greek. They went to Latvian school and learned about their language, traditions, and cultural history, just like I went to Greek school to learn about mine. They were so wrapped up in their cultural heritage that it was a religion. I knew this feeling. It was familiar to me. I understood them and I instantly felt at home around them.

When we graduated high school, we all went to college at the University of Illinois in Urbana. My two Latvian high school friends were roommates in the same dorm I was at, living only two floors above me in Saunders Hall. No surprise to anyone, my roommate was Greek and my dorm neighbor was Greek too. So there we were. All daughters of immigrants, all friends sharing a common experience, eventually becoming roommates in our first college apartments too. During this time, I got to meet more Latvians. Lots of them. Maybe even all of them, at least the ones from Chicago. All had unique names, all with blond hair and light blue eyes and they all absolutely knew how to throw a party. It must have been part of their DNA. I remember a lot of beer, vodka & lemonade drinks. It was some kind of punched up Latvian summer shandy. And always dancing at the end of the night to “Oh, What a Night” by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Pants optional. True story.

The unique thing about this little group of Chicago-based Latvians, was that they all knew each other from the time they were born. They grew up together, they went to school together, they travelled together, they even went to summer camp together. Everything. Together. If you didn’t know better you would have thought they had the same mother. And in many ways they did, mother Latvia. Their dedication to her was unwavering and admirable.

What stood out to me, when my Latvian girlfriends would tell me their stories growing up, were the ones about summer camp. This camp was forever etched into my imagination. Every summer, an annual pilgrimage to a small lakeside enclave in Wisconsin to be with all the other Latvian kids they grew up with. Their moms would run camp programs, their dads would visit over the weekend. An outdoor, Catholic Mass on Sundays, celebrated in Latvian. They would play volleyball all day, party into the night, while dancing around a big bonfire singing Latvian folk songs. It sounded like magic.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I went to a Greek village every summer of my life, which was great. It was like summer camp when I was a kid. In the early years, the bathroom was an outhouse. Electricity didn’t make it to our village until the 80s. I was there surrounded by all my Greek aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. In many ways it was very similar to that Latvian camp experience, except in one critical way. Many of my Latvian friends could not go back to Latvia every summer like I did to Greece. Latvia was part of the Soviet Union during that time and did not gain independence until 1991. This one detail was important and the main reason Latvian summer camp took on a different meaning for them. It was a proxy Latvia. It was where Latvians could come together and be free.

Right about now, you might be wondering why I am telling you this story? Well, this weekend I went to Camp Wandawega. And Camp Wandawega, I will have you know, is where this Latvian summer camp used to be. The actual camp location where my Latvian friends and their community would come together every summer. I know, pretty cool, right? Now, this is not meant to be a puff piece extolling the epic coolness of Camp Wandawega. I am not here to “influence” you. I am not going to talk about all the Instagram-ready vignettes dotted around the resort paying an homage to retro camping and the history of this lakeside area. Though they are beautiful, there have been a multitude of media pieces covering this resort far better than I ever could, which you could read about here and here.

But this camp, this weekend, made me smile and took me back in time. It forced me to disconnect from my city life: all the technology, television and the general pre-occupation with keeping busy. It forced me to slow down and remind myself of a different life. A simpler life. One where I could hear myself think and appreciate the general sights and sounds of nature instead of looking at them on my iPhone. And I love knowing that the current stewards of this property, Dave Hernandez (another Latvian) and his wife, Tereasa Surratt were able to preserve this camp and share it with all of us. Nostalgia lives on. It’s not just me who longs for the past and simpler times.

(I mean he got the chance to keep his boyhood summer camp! Come on! I love that!!!)

In the distance when I heard other camp visitors laughing and talking, in my mind’s eye I could see and hear my Latvian friends playing volleyball and later dancing around a bonfire singing to the Cikagas Piecisi. And it made me smile.

Carry on. Cheers!

Now go make some s’mores.

-Kallie

50, 50, 50, 4 Days Ago, oh…

May 8, 2020

In the wise words of Joey Ramone:

20, 20, 20, 4, hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do, nowhere to go, oh
I wanna be sedated

So, it’s been 54 days since we were told to “shelter in place”. That’s almost 8 weeks of working from home, ordering groceries, sanitizing, cooking, cleaning, watching Netflix, sanitizing, drinking all the cocktail kits, getting Friday night “curbside pick-up” from my favorite restaurants and sanitizing. Did I mention sanitizing? Yes, lots of that.

I am an introvert by nature. A shy, keep to myself, honest to goodness homebody. But THIS is getting to be a little much, even for me and in many ways, I was made for this crisis. I love doing things the old fashioned way. I love cooking. I hate the limelight. I am not a fan of public speaking. I tire of putting my “game face” on at work or being “on” all the time around people I don’t know well. If given a choice, I think I could stay home and read my books forever!

But…

I do miss seeing my mom everyday. I miss seeing my friends at our monthly “Diva Dinner”. I miss some of my co-workers. It would be nice to have the option to browse in a store or go grocery shopping like it’s not some sort of Navy Seal mission. Masks, antibacterial wipes, sunglasses? Check, check, check.

The longer times goes on, the more I am realizing our old life will be a memory. Kind of like how life changed after 9-11. Do you remember 20 years ago we used to travels without having to take off our shoes through security? That we used to go into our offices without needing to “swipe in”? A world without a constant scrolling news feed?

Are we ever going to go outside without masks again? Will we ever share a meal again? Will we ever shake hands or hug to greet each other again?

I learned something new during this pandemic. This is not my mother’s first pandemic. No I am not talking about that Spanish flu they keep talking about on the news. She isn’t that old. But in 1957 she says she remembered staying home from school for 3 months because of a strain of flu that originated from Singapore called H2N2 that also caused a global pandemic.

How am I just find out about this now? How have I been around my mother my whole life and she just casually mentions it to me now? I have been thinking about my grandfather. I wish I could talk to him. I wonder what things changed in his life in Greece after this pandemic? What things did he lament changing? Did life ever feel “normal” again?

The movie theater. I miss the movie theater. More than anything else, I miss going to a big dark movie theater with plush seats and surround sound. Just me, a bag of buttery popcorn and giant screen taking me on a journey. Netflix is ok. AppleTV is fine. They are good for binge watching one season after another of The Crown or Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations, but it is not the same experience. Besides actually living the story yourself, a big movie screen experience will sweep you away in a story.

Gosh I miss Anthony Bourdain.

So, I have spent a lot of time cooking. What are you cooking? I made strawberry jam recently. Not that this was my intent. I was placing an online order on Instacart and instead of ordering two small packages of strawberries, I ordered two 32oz packages of fresh strawberries. That’s 4 lbs of strawberries! So I made jam with one of the packages.

I was surprised that I could order phyllo dough. So I decided I also needed to make 4,000 spinach and feta triangles, but with Swiss chard, so I guess Swiss chard and feta triangles, technically. I didn’t know how much a bunch of Swiss chard weighed so again I was surprised to find that I ordered what looked like entire field of Swiss chard. But no fear. In case you are wondering, two armfuls of Swiss chard successfully shrinks down to the palm of your hands once you sauté it. So I in fact did order just the right amount. When it comes to “greens”, always order more than you think you need, then add more. You won’t be sorry.

Also, it was Easter on April 19th, so I did Easter-type things. I didn’t feel very spring like, but I kind of tried to go through the motions. You know how they say “act as if, and it will be”. There is some truth to that. So I painted my Easter eggs red and baked a tsoureki. You know, it was the first time also painted “American style” pastel Easter eggs with some PAAs-like egg dye. I am not going to lie. Why? Why does anyone do it? Why does it take so long? I made a dozen red eggs in the same amount of time it took to make one pink, yellow and blue Easter egg. And the risk of getting color EVERYWHERE is exponentially high.

I streamed Easter services online for the first time in my life. In many ways it wasn’t bad. I could sit down with my cup of coffee while “watching” church. There was no getting dressed for church. No having to put my on my “game face” on or be “on”. Did I mention how much I hate putting on my “game face’?

Anyway, it did feel like Easter, kind of. Ok, not really.

I also set up a tent for my daughter in our living room, cuz why not? I have never been camping . That’s one of the many things in life I kind of wish I had done, but if I really were to search in the depths of my inner soul, I would find that I really have zero desire to go camping. I mean, I have been going to small Greek villages since the 70s and 80s when they still didn’t have electricity and all bathrooms were outhouses. So in many ways, haven’t I already been “camping”? What would I be proving by sleeping outside in a thin canvas tent on the hard ground with the very real risk of a bear snooping around? No thanks!

So pretend camping is where it’s at. We sit inside of it, with our pillows and little battery powered candles and read books and pretend there are monsters outside, a.k.a. my husband, Jeff. Roar.

So yeah, that’s what I have been doing to keep myself busy in between working from home, disinfecting groceries, and living blissfully in my jeans and a tee shirt. In the meantime, I will “act as if” I am a famous author writing the next great American novel.

Later,

Kallie ♥️

Shelter in Place, like this Focaccia Dough

April 25, 2020

Captain’s Log, day 3,540 of sheltering in place in Chicago because of the biblical pandemic caused by COVID-19. My initial feelings of shock and despondency have begun to dissipate. In their place is an odd acceptance of the current situation and the calming affect of carbs because of weekly bread making. I have come to look forward to the daily press briefings by hot and rugged New York Governor Andrew Cuomo. I also watch the daily pressers of our own Illinois Governor JB Pritzker, more to watch if his long mane of hair will explode out of control. He has the most well-tamed mane in America. While most Americans were busy stockpiling toilet paper and Clorox Wipes, he must have been saving jars and jars of Dippity-do hair gel. And if you are too young to remember Dippity-do hair gel, click here and see #14, along with a list of other drug store classics that last forever and will get your through any pandemic.

So what is your daily routine like? Are you waking up at 9am and then rolling over and snoozing until noon? Please say yes and let me live vicariously through you. What are you watching? Please do not say Tiger King. What are you cooking? Please, tell me. Share with me. Love me. Tell me in the comments below.

Here is my routine:

  • 6:00am – wake up, brush teeth, wear favorite jeans and tee shirt
  • 6:30am – commute from bedroom to home office, turn on CNN, sigh
  • 6:55am – dial-in to daily call at work
  • 7:00am – 5:30pm – perform my day job all alone, but together with my colleagues using Microsoft Teams, Bloomberg chats and GoTo Meeting while juggling a desktop, laptop, iPad and iPhone to make it all work smoothly like an IT rockstar
  • 5:00pm – start feelings of outrage as White House press briefings begin
  • 5:10pm – watch Dr. Fauci and Dr. Birx re-examine their life and career choices as they listen to incoherent absurdities. I see you Doctors! I feel your pain.
  • 5:20pm – watch Dr. Fauci and Dr. Birx try to course correct diplomatically. Come on Doctors! You know you want to throw your hands up and storm out! I won’t hold it against you. The fact that you don’t, means you are true patriots and love your fellow man.
  • 5:30pm – watch David Muir and ABC’s World New Tonight, think about Peter Jennings and what he would say to us
  • 6:00pm – commute to kitchen, cook dinner and clean up while looking out the window longingly
  • 8:00pm – watch cute Anderson Cooper and even hotter Chris Cuomo be outraged on CNN, sigh
  • 10:00pm – watch local news, weather and Jimmy Kimmel while scrolling through Twitter because, comedy
  • 11:00p – watch my girl Juju Chang tell me incredible human interest stories on Nightline, think about Ted Koppel and what he would say
  • Repeat

I need some new shows to watch. Currently I am watching Homeland (love Claire Danes), This is Us and Grey’s Anatomy, because I am a creature of habit and annually forgive Shona Rhimes for killing off my favorite characters. I am also watching every single episode of Ina Garten’s cooking show. You know, I love Martha Stewart very much, but Ina just has that little bit of extra edge about her. You never hear Ina tell us to make a cocktail by asking us to “pour 2 shots of vodka in a martini shaker…”, she is always telling us to “pour out 2 cups of vodka and 1/2 cup of Cointreau in a huge pitcher” like the boss that she really is. If you haven’t seen her make her Cosmopolitan recipe, watch here. How easy is that? Indeed Ina, indeed.

So, I don’t know what you are cooking these days, but I have been baking a lot of bread. Today, I discovered this overnight, refrigerator focaccia recipe from Alexandra Stafford’s blog “Alexandra’s Kitchen”. I have never seen an easier, more passive bread recipe in my life. After you mix up the ingredients you let it sit covered in your refrigerator for 12-18 hours. And then, you put in a pan and let it sit there for 4 more hours. And then you bake it. You barely touch the thing and it becomes magic. A crispy, chewy, olive oily, salty, piece of heaven. So here it is:

Shelter in Place Focaccia (adapted from Alexandra’s Kitchen)

  • 2 teaspoons instant yeast
  • 2 cups (455 g) lukewarm water, about 110 degrees F.
  • 4 cups (512 g) all-purpose flour
  • 2 teaspoons (10 g) kosher salt
  • 4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
  • flaky sea salt, such as Maldon brand

Begin by mixing the yeast, salt, flour and warm water in a bowl and mix together until you have something that looks like a wet, shaggy ball. You know, shaggy, kind of like how our hair looks these days.

Place the dough ball a bowl you have coated with olive oil, cover with a tea towel and put in your refrigerator for 12-18 hours. Yes, you read that right, let sit for 12-18 hours. Perform your daily routine of work, news updates and television show watching.

After the allotted time has elapsed, place a couple tablespoons of olive oil in the pan you plan on baking your focaccia in. I used a 9×13 inch pan. Place your dough from the bowl onto the pan and do not touch it for another 2-4 hours. Wash hand for at least 20 seconds. Dry. Go take a nap.

After 2-4 hours, cover your hands in olive oil and with your fingers, press dimples into the dough to give it that characteristic focaccia look. Top your focaccia with sea salt and rosemary if you like, then bake in 425 degree F oven for 25-30 minutes until it becomes a beautiful golden brown.

Eat and enjoy, alone, but together with me.

Yours in isolation,

Kallie =)

What Highballs, Roast Chicken and Car Dealerships Have in Common…

March 12, 2019

Let’s try this one more time…

I am waiting around at the car dealership right now, getting an oil change.  

You have probably been wondering where I have been the past few weeks.  I sort of started a “let’s live your best life” series on the blog and then disappeared.  Well, there is no way to say this but to just explain what happened, hope you understand and move forward.

On February 25th, my father passed away.  He was sick.  But I wasn’t expecting him to go on that day.  It was a little bit of a shock.  I thought he would have had more time.  I am not sure that I have processed what happened yet.  It happened so quickly when it did.  In fact, I know I haven’t. I have kind of been walking around like a robot, “taking care of things” and keeping my mind busy with “tasks”.  Maybe I am at the “denial” part of the grieving stage which is why I am endeavoring to keep busy so that I  don’t have time to stop and think about what happened.

Anyway, that’s where I am at right now.  

I am going to try to move forward with this “best life” series in 2019, not just for my inter-web readers, but for me too.  There probably is no better time than now to “try to live your best life” and work on happiness.  Maybe the proverbial “universe” knew what I was going to need this year more than I did when it inspired me to focus on happiness.  “Girl, you are going to have to have to go on the mother of all adventures to find happiness this year.”  I fully acknowledge that it will likely be a struggle, but I am going to work through it, together with you guys.

I keep getting interrupted by a flood of memories of my father from my childhood and I am just stunned when I think about how so many years could have gone by.  How can so much have happened so long ago and it still feels like it was just yesterday?  How does time work that way?  One day you are a kid, sitting in the back of the car with your Barbies on a road trip to Canada with your dad driving and your mom changing up Greek 8-track tapes, and the next I am here, an adult at the car dealership, alone.

Memories are funny things.  I keep having Marcel Proust type of memories.  If any of you took French in college you know what I mean.  The guy wrote a novel on how a madeleine cookie sparked a memory of “things past” that lasted 7 volumes and 3,200 pages.

The other day my friend came over for a visit and wanted a bourbon whiskey with ginger ale.  I didn’t have any ginger ale, but for some reason, I had 7-up.  We usually do not have any soda on hand.  She asked, “What’s this drink called again, with the 7-up?”  I said, “It’s a highball.”  The memory of my dad washed over me and warmed me like a sip of bourbon whiskey.  It was just a silly little cocktail.  But it was my dad’s drink.  It was what he always ordered when out at dinner.

Funny, how something so small can be so powerful.  Grief can be weird.

A few days later, I was at my mom’s house with my daughter and she said she was going to make lemony roasted chicken and potatoes for dinner.  It kind of stopped me in my tracks.  That was my dad’s specialty.  He made that meal better than anyone, including my mom.  Shhhh.  Don’t tell my mom I said that.

I think I am most upset that my daughter lost her best friend, her “pappou-i”. She still looks for him at my mom’s house. I think I do too.

I don’t know.  Is he sending messages from the other side?  That he is still here, around us, watching over us?  He certainly was a force in life.  And I won’t forget him.  I can still feel him around, hear his voice in my head, constantly giving me advice that I never asked for, but will need later. LOL.  Even here at the car dealership, I think back to when I was a kid and he would take me with him to get the oil changed in his car.  And then we would go for ice cream.  Which is what I am probably going to do after I am done here.

#keepgriefweird.

I will see you guys next week, I hope with the next installment of “best life 2019”.

Bye now.

Kallie

The Magic of Sleep

January 20, 2019

I didn’t post last week.  Quite a bit happened in the these first few weeks of January. Enough to make one quite philosophical about life or at least make you re-examine your own and ask some serious questions about how you are living it and what you are prioritizing as important.  The past few weeks have most definitely strengthened my resolve to try to do all I can to have a happier and healthier life.  

And the key to that resolve is consistency.  And consistency requires vigilance, mindfulness. Constantly reminding yourself why you are doing these things that can lead to more happiness.  And keeping at it.  Like your life depends on it.  

We are a few weeks away from the topic of mindfulness, but I just wanted to plant that seed right there in the back of your mind for now.  A small bit of foreshadowing of what’s to come, if you will.  But first, we need to start with the easy steps, the physical ones, the ones you can easily do and track to get the satisfaction of completing something.  The ones that are easily repeatable because they are kind of already happening in your life.

So last time we spoke about the importance of exercise and that something as simple as taking a walk for 30 minutes 3-4 times a week can make one happier.  Μy goal was to commit to trying to run a 5k in April.  The purpose of setting this goal is just to get myself to a place where I can just run 3 miles whenever I want, easily, without thought.  Have my 30-40 minutes to zone out and physically burn off the day’s stressors.  But what’s next?

Well besides making you happier, exercise can also make you sleep better.  And guess what?  Sleeping better means amplifying the happiness quotient.  It’s the one free, simple thing you do every day anyway and it can make you happier, look better, function more efficiently, and think clearer.  It totally sounds like a late night infomercial, but it’s true, just getting a good night’s sleep is life changing.  

Now I can hear you type-A people right now…oh I don’t need that much sleep.  I have a genetic predisposition to function on little sleep.  Oh do you?  I doubt it…it’s pretty rare actually.

How many times have you read, “Americans wear sleep deprivation like a badge of honor.”  American culture plays this dangerous competition of sleeplessness to show how dedicated they are to their jobs.  As if it somehow not sleeping means you are better than everyone else and are working harder.  Can we just stop with our snobby, sleep-deprived selves?  I think it just means you are incredibly inefficient with your time, don’t value your health, and are very poor at prioritizing what’s important. Maybe if you got more sleep, you could really work better and faster.  I promise you, that you are not above basic human function.  In fact every single life form on earth, slumbers.  And if you deprive yourself of sleep long enough, you will not only be tired, but have bags under your eyes, get wrinkles easier, make poor food choices and make yourself generally unpleasant to be around. It will eventually take a toll on your health in ways you could not have imagined.

Sleep is important and you have to respect it’s power.

I have a friend, who is so committed to their sleep, she bought a mattress that cost as much as a small car.  I am not kidding.  It’s some handmade mattress made by French nuns who weave together some some magical combination of horsehair, wool, and cotton, and is sleep-tested by unicorns.  She claims it’s the best sleep she has ever had in her life.  Ok, kidding about the nuns, but I am NOT kidding about the quality of her sleep. When you stop to think about it, we spend more hours in bed than we do in our cars.  Why wouldn’t you invest in a high quality mattress to drive you to Sleepytown?  Fancy cars don’t bring happiness…those are just things to show off to other people…but a good night of sleep?  Now that is true luxury. Brag about that people!

Sleeping is this mystical thing that happens overnight that causes your brain and body to relax and repair itself.  I like to think there is this little magical “beauty sleep team” that comes out at night while you sleep, sweeping things away in your brain, reconnecting broken circuits, pummeling your muscles into relaxation, smoothing out that crease in between your eyebrows…ok I know that sounds like a spa.  But it many ways it is.  Sleep is restorative and when you actually wake up well rested, it’s almost as if you have gone on this mini self-care vacation. How can you not be happy when you are in a better mood?

You know in Guatemala, they have these things called “worry dolls”.  They are these tiny multi-colored handmade dolls that children tell their worries to at night before bed, releasing the sleeper of worry while the dolls work to solve the problems.  How great is that?  Kids are trained from a very young age that sleep is so valued that they are taught to NOT stay up all night worrying about things.

What else is sleep good for?  Where to begin?

  • Improved memory & better attention span –  Sleep will help you get better grades in school because you can remember the material.  I am telling you the sleep fairies come out and organize all that new information in your brain in all the right places.
  • Live longer – Do you think those Ikarians live so long only because of olive oil and mountain tea alone?  No.  They also take afternoon siestas, daily!  More sleep people, more sleep.
  • Improve sports performance – Do you think Olympic alpine skiers are on all night benders before they go hurling themselves down the steepest, tallest mountains in the world on two skinny sticks tied to their boots?  No.  Be an Olympic sleeper my friends.
  • Healthy weight – Are you trying to lose weight?  I know I am.  And I can tell you right now, that when I have good sleep hygiene, I weigh less.  There is something about sleep that helps in the efforts to lose weight.  Maybe if you are sleeping you aren’t snacking, LOL.  But seriously, when you are not dead tired, you are making better food choices, hell, you are making better life choices. Let sleep work for you.
  • Lower stress – Well, not burning the candle at both ends or burning out your telomeres?  That’s a good thing.  What are telomeres?  They are the caps at the end of your chromosomes.  You want these to be long and protective so you can stay young, not short and aging. And sleep keeps them long.  Lowering that stress level in your body means less inflammation and you want that. Sleep is protective of your heart and brain, you’ll have better blood sugar levels and lower blood pressure.
  • And guess what?  All of this, maybe, just maybe leads to making you HAPPY!

Okay, so how do you do this? What does this sleep task look like in your best life plan?  You must commit to sleeping 7.5 hours at least 4 times a week.  Personally I would strive to get these precious hours of sleep Sunday night thru Wednesday night because that’s the bulk of your work week.  I bet you take a nap or sleep in a little on the weekend anyway, so then you are sleeping 7.5 hours most nights of the week.  

Not convinced? Read this article from the National Geographic magazine. Or how about this book on sleep by Arianna Huffington? Or how about The New Yorker’s three part series about sleep?

So, get yourself a great pair of pajamas.  Splurge on those linen sheets.  Invest in good quality down pillows.  Put down your smartphones and just get to the business of sleep.  Just do it.

See ya’ next week sleepy heads. Hey! I see you yawning.

Love,

Kallie