I dug through my purse and dialed Paul. “Good grief!” I cried to him. “I can’t believe we didn’t remember.” On our anniversary there was no candlelit dinner. No night away together in a cozy inn, no cards or gifts. Our anniversary had passed, a day like any other. And we didn’t acknowledge it in any way.

Paul and I were married on April 10th, 1999. It was a cold and drizzly evening in Syracuse. We invited all of our friends and family to a huge old inn, lit hundreds of candles, opened lots of bottles of wine, and celebrated. While the rain pelted the windows, we gathered around fireplaces, danced to our favorite band, and let the wine flow. There were tables filled with food in every room. I couldn’t decide on one wedding cake so we ordered chocolates, tarts and other sweet things to eat. At midnight, the staff brought out rolls and carved up beef for tenderloin sandwiches. I didn’t want the night to end. When an elderly friend of ours left that night, she pulled me aside. She took my hands in her own and said, “There was real love felt here in this room tonight.” Her eyes filled with tears as she said this and she hugged me. Perhaps she thought of her own wedding, some 50 years before.

As the years go on, memories of that night have faded. It’s become a little blurry, all of it. But that woman’s words have stayed with me. I remember the dress she wore, the way her husband stood by, nodding his head and smiling as she spoke.
Paul and I decided that even though we forgot the day of our anniversary, it was still worth celebrating. Thirteen years and five days of being married deserves recognition. So we planned a day together. We would take the day off from work, drive to Hudson and tour Olana. The plan was to leave after kids stepped on the bus, and be home before dinner.

I was so excited for our day together. Paul and I have long wanted to visit Olana, Frederick Church’s estate in Hudson. Built in 1870 and copying the styles of architecture and design he and his wife saw on their travels to the middle east, the house sits on 250 acres. I dreamed of us walking, slowing, through the rooms, admiring the intricate tiles and beautiful colors. We would listen to the tour guide. This we could do of course, because we wouldn’t have children in tow.

After the tour, we would take a long and leisurely walk through the wooded grounds, taking in the views of the Catskill Mountains. From the highest point of the property we would see the Hudson River as it makes its winding way toward the Atlantic. Yes, I dreamed.

Only, it was not meant to be. On the day we planned our getaway, I woke feeling dizzy and hot. These minor discomforts gave way to shivers and chills and aches. I spent the day in bed, not at Olana, frolicking with my love on the landscaped grounds. Paul might tell you that he wasn’t planning on frolicking anyway. But as I lay in bed, hot and cold and sick and feeling very sorry for myself, I was sad for all the frolicking I imagined we would have done.

Paul checked on me, made cups of tea and heated up soup as I lay in bed that day. It wasn’t exactly a page from a storybook romance. The next day, I felt better. And we were back to work, back to schedules, back to the life we lead everyday. Olana, sitting high atop that hill down in Hudson, had to wait.

We’ll do it another day, I told myself. But the days are short and schedules are greedy. They eat up our time and still, ask for more. Now, a month later, we still have not gone to Olana. We haven’t made our dreamy, romantic day trip, but we have enjoyed each other’s company. We have sat together over steamy cups of coffee, spread mulch in our garden and taken our dog for a long walk on the rail trail. Once, a few nights ago, we sat together, all five of us, at the dinner table. Zoe talked loudly about her upcoming birthday. Lucy was planning on making a video with her friends and was talking about it, excitedly. Elliot gave us a report on a science project from school. His class created compost, and each was given an earthworm for their bag of compost. He told us proudly how he named his worm “Mr. and Mrs. Squiggle”.

“Oh, I thought you said there was just one worm?” I asked.

Conversation stopped. They all looked at me, mouths agape.

“Mom.” Elliot said, slowly. “They are worms. Worms, you know? Every worm is a Mr. and a Mrs.”

And they laughed. It’s the sound you want at your dinner table. Voices and laughter among the clinking of forks and glasses. I looked at Paul just then, catching his eye. He smiled at me. It was his warm, sweet, blue-eyed smile. I knew, in that smile, how much he loves me. How it didn’t matter if we went out for dinner, or exchanged gifts or went away for the day.
What mattered was right there, sitting at our dinner table. What matters is our family; happy, healthy and together. So right now I’d like to say happy anniversary to my husband. We didn’t celebrate it in a conventional way. Instead, we celebrate it every day that we are together and raising our family. Happy Anniversary, Paul. Happy thirteen years, one month and 4 days. I look forward to the many more years, months and days to come.

Spiced Rice and Date Salad
A warm weather dish inspired, like Frederick Church was, by the culture of the Middle East. The turmeric in this dish turns the rice a lovely shade of yellow.

2 c. cooked green lentils
1 1/2 c. cooked basmati rice
1/2 c. chopped dates
1/2 c. chopped dried apricots
3/4 c. toasted and chopped almonds
1 small shallot, minced
1/2 c. olive oil
juice of 1 lemon
1 t. cumin
1 t. turmeric
1/4 t. cayenne
1/4 t. cinnamon
sea salt and black pepper, to taste

Combine the lentils with the rice, dates, apricots and almonds, In a small glass bowl, whisk together the oil, lemon juice and spices. Pour over the lentil mixture and stir gently. Taste and adjust seasonings. Marinate for a few hours. Best the next day.

Read it here.

One of Paul’s lovely pictures from the story:

Tabbouleh

3 cups cooked bulgur wheat
1 handful cherry tomatoes, quartered
3 green onions, trimmed and chopped (I used these purple onions)
1 c. parsley, chopped
1/2 c. spinach, chopped
juice of 1 lemon
1/4 c. olive oil
sea salt and black pepper to taste

In a glass bowl, combine the bulgur with the vegetables, lemon juice and olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Best the next day.

Like many events in my life, Earth Day now has changed. It’s not about hanging with my peeps and listening to a good band. And sadly, it’s not even about those good looking guys without shirts kicking a little ball around. Instead, we parents use this day to talk to our kids about what’s going on around the world.

I don’t talk to my kids about environmental awareness on just one day of the year. It’s something I like to bring up, and act on, quite often. When we plan a quick trip to the library, I tell them I’ll be ready in a minute, and gather up all my books. Coming outside, I find them, all three, buckled up and ready to go. In my car. Now, we live but a few blocks away from the library.

“Why?” Zoe asks. “Why can’t we just drive, mom? Just this once? It looks like rain!”

But I won’t drive the few blocks. And while they unbuckle and groan about possibly having to get wet, they get to hear my speech about wasting gas. Sometimes they run to the library, just to get away from me and avoid hearing it.

Paul reigns over the electricity and water usage in our house. He likes to conserve. On this front, I tend to be as guilty as the kids. My light gets left on, the house is so much more comfortable at 70° and who can remember to close the front door when the heat is on? Not always me. The idea of conservation in our home is a good one. I’m glad Paul is around to enforce it.

I also like to do potentially embarrassing things like save bread bags and pack sandwiches in them. I know it makes me sound like my grandmother, but why waste a perfectly good bag? Bread bags can, in fact, be used many times over. Zoe refuses to allow this and she will remove a sandwich from the offending and potentially embarrassing bag and place it in a plastic container. What do I do all the while? Yup, I tell her all about how we have to use less plastic and resources – they are precious things that should be saved. I talk, she listens, nodding.

In anticipation of Earth Day, I decided to do something more than just talk. There are the usual events we’ve done in the past to celebrate Earth Day – a Rail Trail clean up, and even just a quiet hike in the woods. You know, to get back to the thing we’re celebrating in the first place.

This year I wanted to do something small, a project with my kids. So I asked them what they do in school for Earth Day.
“Mom. Earth Day is only for kindergardeners,” Lucy informed me. Huh, I thought and smiled to myself, just wait till you get to college.

For now, though, a sweet project at home seemed just the thing for us. A friend gave me this idea: planting pea seeds, in eggshells, and then placing the sprouted peas, in the shells, directly in the earth. Elliot, with his typical boyhood enthusiasm, couldn’t wait to get started. Both of my daughters shrugged at the idea. Lucy went back to her homework and Zoe did handstands while we planted our seeds.

Elliot’s favorite part was what came before the planting. I gave him a big, sharp knife let him whack the top off each egg. Earth Day, Smearth Day, Elliot loves to chop anything with a knife. We rinsed out the shells, placed them carefully back in the carton and brought it outside. We dug our hands into the potting soil and filled each shell with it. It felt good to get dirt under our nails.

I set the carton on my windowsill, a warm and sunny spot. Those little shells, all snug in their carton with a seed tucked in each made me happy. And when they sprouted, when a tiny bright green tendril peeked out from the egg, we couldn’t believe it. It was Lucy who saw it first and came running to get me. We were all so proud of our little baby sprouts. Now they are reaching all over my windows, searching for something to hold onto. Paul tells me that we should put them outside. But I can’t bear to let them go, not yet.

Of course in our house, all this talk of being good to the earth spills over to what we eat. Since Lucy became a vegetarian one year ago, all of our eating habits have changed. Sure, we still like a good beef stew and cheeseburger now and then, but we end up eating vegetarian meals a whole lot more than we used to. And eating more grains and vegetables, especially those grown close to our home, is better for the earth. Paul sighs and piles more veggies and brown rice on his plate, wishing for a pork chop. It’s good for us, I tell him. Good for the earth, too.

Homemade hummus is a staple in our house. Once we figured out the balance of flavor (a little lemon-y, not too garlic-y, a touch of pepper) it became a regular. Hummus is excellent for snack after school, in lunch boxes and even as part of a light dinner.

On Earth Day, I’m not asking my children to do anything too great. No chaining ourselves to trees or protesting against the oil companies. Instead, I want them to simply be aware of their environment. Doing small things can make a difference. Be thoughtful, I tell them. Plant a seed, take a walk. Because Earth Day isn’t just for kindergardeners or college students. It’s for everyone.

Homemade Hummus
In this recipe, peanut butter stands in for the traditional tahini, which is sesame seed paste. A few drops of toasted sesame oil balances the sweetness of peanut butter. If you use unsweetened peanut butter, you can skip the sesame oil. Taste and correct the seasonings after pureeing according to your taste.

1 16-oz can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 t peanut butter
2 peeled garlic cloves (see note)
1 small handful flat leaf parsley
juice of 1 lemon
1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1/2 t. toasted sesame oil
1/2 t. sea salt
black pepper

Combine all ingredients in a food processor. Puree until very smooth, about 5 minutes. Taste the hummus, and add more pepper or salt if necessary. Scrape into a container and drizzle a bit of olive oil over. Best after being refrigerated for a few hours.

Note about garlic: we like a milder hummus, so I simmer the peeled garlic cloves in a bit of water for a minute before adding them to the hummus. If you like the bite of raw garlic, use them as is.

Finally, Elliot and Zoe looked at this and wanted to know what the green stuff was. Had I answered with, “It’s loads and loads of fresh spinach!”, they might not have gone for it. But instead, I coolly answered, “It’s just pesto, guys.” Which wasn’t a lie, just not revealing the total truth. And they ate it up. End of story.

Baked Greens and Grains
adapted from The Family Dinner: Great Ways to Connect with Your Kids, One Meal at a Time by Laurie David find it here

2 cups barley, rinsed
4 big handfuls fresh spinach, washed and chopped
olive oil
1 large shallot, peeled and chopped
1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes
salt & pepper to taste
1 c. shredded mozzarella
1 c. ricotta
1/2 c. shredded Parmesan
1 egg
1/2 c. prepared pesto (a perfect way to use Our Daily Eat’s pesto!)

In a large pot of rapidly boiling water, cook the barley for 25 minutes. It will still have a little crunch to it. While the barley is cooking, heat a little olive oil in a sauce pan and cook the shallot for a few minutes, until soft. Add the crushed tomatoes and season with salt and pepper. Simmer for a minute or two and turn off heat. Preheat the oven to 350°.
In a medium-sized bowl, combine the ricotta, egg and pesto. Set aside. Grease a 9×9 glass baking dish. Layer the lasagna like this: a scoop of barley, tomato sauce, mozzarella, about 5 spoonfuls of the ricotta mixture and a bit of Parmesan. Do it all over again, starting with the barley. You should have enough to layer everything twice. The top should have a layer of shredded mozzarella and Parmesan.
Cover the dish with aluminum foil and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil and place under the broiler for 2-3 minutes, until crisp and brown. Allow to cool for 10-15 minutes and serve with a green salad.