Somehow, I have become a meal planner; which is okay with me because planning is what I do best. I love the research and the opportunity to be creative. To be honest, I can spend more time planning than actually "doing." And I like to organize my plans, too. You can laugh, I don't mind. There have been times where I've made a list of the lists I need to make. I know I have done this when planning a vacation; when children are involved, there are lots of things to remember and sometimes making a list of the lists of things you must bring along is the easiest way to do it. Okay, now you have to stop laughing at me.

     After seeing my posts about breakfast ideas for my friend's little punkin, another friend asked if I had some ideas for her big punkin. Let me explain: a friend is going to her cottage with another Mom and four teenage boys (ages 15 to 18 years). She wanted some ideas for meals that would fill them up and could be made in large quantities.

     So, I thought about it, and this is what I would bring (for food) if I were going to a cottage with four teenage boys.
(1) There are the obvious things like hamburgers, hotdogs, pot o' chili, steak, barbequed chicken, stew (which I think is completely gross, by the way), lasagna, and various other make ahead casseroles. But, I'm not going to mention those here because they are too obvious. What may not be so obvious is that the adults do not always have to eat the same thing as the kids. I realized this after eating pizza every Friday night for as long as I could remember; I came to hate it. So, remember that you don't have to eat hotdogs just because the boys are.
(2) Teenagers like sandwiches. Jonesy told me that when he was a teenager, he ate sandwiches three at a time. I was a teenaged girl, so I just ate one sandwich at a time but I did like them a lot. You could buy a couple of large French loaves from the bakery, and make your own subs ... but with really good fillings. I'm thinking pesto instead of plain ol' mayo, olive salad, Italian deli meats, really flavourful cheeses. They're easy to wrap and take to the beach, or heat up in the oven for a warm and gooey sandwich. Since these are hungry boys we're trying to feed, serve chips and vegies with dip, too. But don't offer pop or juice ... get out the blender and make a milkshake. Milkshakes are filling and can be nutritionally beneficial if you use fresh ingredients. Plus, since the blender is already out, you could make the Moms one of those fancy blender drinks, right?
(3) Spaghetti and Meatballs are quick and easy, if you bring meatballs with you. Just plop them into the tomato sauce to reheat, while your noodles cook. Make homemade oversized meatballs, and the boys can use leftovers to make Meatball Subs the next day for lunch; just get another one of those French Bread loaves, cut the meatballs in half (so there is a flat surface), some slices of mozarella cheese and heat them up in the oven. And, instead of the moms having to eat spaghetti and meatballs, just separate the unadorned noodles and make something ... ummm, well make something better. Something like this.
(4) I am the first to admit that I spend a lot of time in the kitchen. Too much, if the truth be told. I came across this idea and think that it is a great alternative to the traditional lasagna. They are little lasagna cups ... but it does depend on how much time you want to spend preparing ahead of time. It seems to me that it would easy enough to make them, then freeze them; after a long day at the beach, or antiquing, you could just pop these into the oven and make a salad while they reheat. If each mom made 24, surely that would be more than enough for the hungry teenage boys, wouldn't it?
(5) Shishkabobs. I love shishkabobs and I don't make them enough. They are easy, they cook quickly, and they are delicious. Plus, you can do all kinds of different things with them and use just about any type of meat you like. Skewer some potatoes, and your whole supper can be shishkabobs. Alternatively, you can make some rice, or a couscous salad, to accompany them, while the teenagers assemble wraps using Greek pita breads ... you know, like those sandwiches they love so much.
(6) I have a tip that is good whether you are cottaging or it is a regular Friday night at home. Did you know that your local (favourite) pizzeria will sell you their dough? We have bought a large pizza dough for $2.25 from our most favourite pizzeria and made our pizza-pie at home; you need to think of a family(or individually)-owned pizzeria because they will have the best, freshest dough. I'm not sure how far your cottage is from civilization, but if there are no local pizzerias, you could buy some before you leave and freeze it. I also love this idea because the boys can help prepare the toppings and make their own pizza ... barbeque some sausage and then slice it, shred the cheese, shape the dough. Why should the moms have to do all the work? Moms like vacation, too.
(7) This is the most amazingly easy and yet amazingly good recipe I have come across ... Refried Beans. Please do not stop reading ... these beans finish like a creamy bean dip. My kids beg for this it is so good ... they actually think it is a treat! You can serve this as a dip with nacho chips and vegies. We make bean and cheese soft tacos with it, and super nachos, and quesadillas; but our newest discovery is to spread a soft flour taco with the refried beans, then wrap it around a hard taco shell, fill the taco shell as you would for any other taco ... and voila: homemade Gorditas!! This recipe is so great because you simply put the ingredients into a crock pot, turn it on, and come back 8 hours later; not sure if your cottage is equipped with an immersion blender but if it's not, I would definitely make this ahead of time to bring along. Yes, it's that good. Plus, it can be used to make a ton of different things, it's filling and it's good for you. It has no fat, ladies.
(8) I think I would bake a little ahead of going and freeze some treats ... things the boys could just grab when they're hungry. Which will be all the time, won't it? Store-bought snacks have a lot of processed sugars which do not fill you up. I would suggest homemade granola bars because the dried fruit, nuts and seeds are both filling and nutritious (I add 1/2cup of flour to this recipe); muffins; large-size oatmeal cookies; whatever are your kids' favourites. And, if both moms commit to baking two or three treats, you should have lots. Don't forget about fruit ... kids will eat it, if it's around. And adults should too.

     Well, I hope that helps a little. In any case, have fun at the cottage.

Okay, sometimes I get carried away with things. But after my post yesterday about muffins that kids like to eat, I remembered a favourite breakfast of Caiden's. Don't tell anyone, but I'm pretty sure he ate this cereal almost every day from the time he was (about) one-year-old until he was at least 3 1/2 years old. And the only reason he stopped eating it, was because (stupid) Marnie came along and I couldn't feed cereal to two kids at the same time in the morning. That's right, he would let me feed him when he was three years old; he was such a cuddly, easy-going, sweet little guy who was happy to have everything done for him. Perfect for an over-bearing mommy like me.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Theo is sick of having cereal every morning, which is why his mom asked for a muffin recipe. To this I respond that this is a big-boy cereal; it's full of texture and new tastes.

I found this recipe in Annabel Karmel's First Meals (1999). I recommend this book to anyone who is looking for great ideas when making infant purees and first foods. Some of the recipes she includes for toddlers are a little high in sugar for my liking, but otherwise, I loved this book and used it all the time. Annabel Karmel became interested in nutrition after the death of her first baby at thirteen weeks old. Although her daughter's death was not diet-related, it spurred her to think about food in a new way because she wanted to give her second child "the best possible start to life" (pg 6). She likes to make (real) food, instead of buying it in a jar or a package. I like that, too. Karmel has a website with loads of ideas, and she has gone on to publish several cookbooks with children in mind.

Fruity Baby Muesli

1/4 cup rolled oats
2 tbsp toasted wheat germ
1 dried apricot, chopped
1 tbsp golden raisins
2/3 cup white grape juice, or apple juice
1/2 red apple, peeled and grated
3 seedless grapes, quartered

Put the oats and wheat germ in a bowl with the dried apricot and raisins. Cover with the juice and let soak for at least two hours ... or overnight is best. (You could also use milk or plain youghurt to soak the oats overnight, if your child tolerates milk products.)
Add the apples and grapes to the soaked cereal and blend/puree. Try using your Magic Bullett.
Makes 2 servings. Recommended for babies 9-12 months.
     This is where Karmel's recipe ends .... but for me, it continues on a bit. As Caiden got a little bit bigger, I didn't puree the muesli at all ... but what I always did, was mix this cereal with (prepared) infant baby cereal. The texture gives the baby something to chew on and there are some very yummy new flavours in there; but the familiar is there, as well. Plus, your baby gets the nutritional value of fresh and dried fruit all at the same time.

     I also found the ratio of oats to juice resulted in a fairly soupy mixture; so, I added more oats than called for in the recipe. How much, you ask? Ummmm ... that was a long time ago, and I don't recall. Play around with it until you find the right mixture for you. In fact, there is no reason why you cannot eat this cereal too ... a little yoghurt on top, fresh fruit ... yum!

     A friend asked if I had a good muffin recipe. I love making muffins; I make them all the time. But this was, sort of, special because my friend needs a muffin recipe to make breakfast interesting (again) for her little one-year-old punkin, Theo. Eventually, they all start to exhibit their independence by deciding what tastes good, and boring ol' cereal just won't do forever.     When my little punkins were littler, I baked them muffins three or four times a week ... some cut up fruit, and maybe a little piece of cheese, along side their warm muffin and they would be quiet for at least an hour until I inevitably heard, "Mo muffin pease."
     This was my "go-to" muffin recipe, found in Anne Lindsay's Smart Cooking (1986). In the past, I have quadrupled this recipe, baked it in commercial-sized baking pans and served it as a part of the (nutritional) snack program at my children's school. And the reason I know kids like it, is because on the mornings I arrived at the school with my huge containers of Oatmeal Muffin squares, kids would cheer and tell me it was their favourite school snack.
     So, I hope Theo likes it, too.

Oatmeal Raisin Muffins

1 cup rolled oats
1 cup buttermilk (or 1 cup milk (or soy milk works great, too) mixed with the juice of 1/2 a lemon)
1 cup all-purpose flour (or 1/2 whole wheat flour, 1/2 all-purpose flour)
1 tbsp natural bran
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup raisins or chopped apricots (optional)
1/2 cup vegetable oil (or use 1/2 oil, 1/2 fruit puree)
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten

Stir the rolled oats into the buttermilk and let stand while you get everything else ready.

Preheat the oven to 375F. Line 12 muffin cups with papers,or grease muffin cups with butter.

Mix together flour, bran, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, salt and raisins, if using. Stir oil, sugar and egg into buttermilk mixture; blend well. Stir liquid mixture into the flour mixture, stirring just until combined.

Spoon batter into prepared muffin cups. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until firm to the touch.

** I have baked this recipe in an 8-inch square pan (for about 25 minutes) and called it "Breakfast Cake." My kids think they are getting something really special!

     On a completely different note, if you are not interested in low sugar and healthy muffins ... you know, something super yummy but not to be eaten every day ... give this a try or these. Oh my god ...

Sometimes, friends have suggested a book, and other times I stumble across them on my own. At Christmas time, a couple of years ago, I picked up a book for Caiden from the "Bargain Book Bin." If memory serves me, I needed one more thing for his Christmas stocking, and without putting too much thought into it, I grabbed this book: The Rover Adventures by Roddy Doyle (2008). It had three stories in one book - "The Giggler Treatment," "Rover Saves Christmas," and "The Meanwhile Adventures" - and looked like something a little boy would find amusing; the stories centre around a talking dog, afterall. Back then, Caiden still liked it when I read to him, and the two of us laughed until we cried when we read these stories. Well, I mostly laughed because I so enjoyed his laughing, but for whatever reasons, we  both really enjoyed these stories. And recently, Caiden told me that Roddy Doyle is his favourite author.
     Who is Roddy Doyle anyway? Have you heard of him?  Because he's not from around here. Sometimes it is easy to caught up in North American writers - there are so many great story-tellers here, but also because we can be narrow-minded, too. There is more to British writing than the greats that we study in school - Milton, Spenser, Chaucer (my favourite) and Shakespeare. Oh, and don't forget that lady ... JK Rowling, I think is her name. Roddy Doyle is an Irish writer, living and working from Dublin. He worked for several years as a teacher (of English and Geography), but began writing full time in 1993. Doyle has written nine novels, a non-fiction book about his parents, several short stories, and of course, he has written children's books as well. Six of them to be exact.
     One day, while studying at the (quiet) library on campus, I took note of the books on the shelf nearest me. Roddy Doyle was there. At that time, I did not realize that Doyle wrote adult fiction, as well and I could not wait to get home to tell Caiden.
     I didn't have time to read Doyle's fiction then, but I do now. I just read The Woman Who Walked Into Doors (1996).
     I'll be honest: there were times that I was so emotionally involved with Paula Spencer, the protagonist of the story, that I wondered why I was putting myself through her agony. It is a sad story; one of poverty, alcoholism, spousal abuse, murder, guilt, and trying to find a way to cope with life. It is also a story of love, because Paula Spencer loves her husband, Charlo; and she gives us (the reader) a glimpse into the psychology of a battered wife. I have studied about and worked with battered women ... their situations are cluttered with psychology and hopelessness and tragedy. Statistics Canada reports that almost 62000 women enter women's shelters for refuge from a violent partner every year; only one in four of them will report the assault to the police. On average, every six days a woman in Canada is killed by her intimate partner.
     What? In Canada? I know, it's shocking isn't it?
     The Woman Who Walked Into Doors gave me something new to think about. By that I mean, it better helped me understand the battered woman's reasoning (to stay) and her coping mechanisms, which are not always healthy, by the way. It is not always about money - Paula Spencer really truly loved her husband and she really thought that she deserved to be beated into unconsciousness. (Ladies, please know that you never deserve to beaten. EVER. Even if you are sassy, or refuse to make your husband's tea, or you don't have supper ready when he gets home from work. Not ever.)
     The weird thing is that this story was written by a man; and the weirder thing is that you would never know.
     This past year, I studied composition ... and it is where my heart lies. By considering composition, it gives new meaning to the story, it allows you to understand it in a more meaningful way. Doyle has constructed this story brilliantly. The story is not told chronologically, but anachronically. Interestingly, if you consider the chapter at the centre of the book, it reveals what is central to the story. It tells where Paula Spencer is now, where she is at in her life, where her children are, how she is coping. It talks about today. The end of the book details what happened to effect the changes that were necessary for survival. But the thing is, neither the chapter at the centre of the book, nor the final chapter give the reader that happy ending we all crave. Maybe that's because it is difficult for a battered woman to find the happy ending that she wants, too: if she stays, it means being beaten into unconsciousness; if she leaves, it means feeling lonely and pining for the man she fell in love with. 
     I have discovered that there is a second book about Paula, entitled Paula Spencer (2007). It apparently takes place ten years after the end of the first book. I'm still recuperating from this emotional upheaval ... maybe I'll read the end to Paula's tale when I'm on Christmas break.
If you want to read more about Violence Against Women in Canada, start here.

Have you ever read a play? Well, other than Death of a Salesman (Arthur Miller, 1949) or The Glass Menagerie (Tennessee Williams, 1944) ... because we've all read those, haven't we. Don't worry, I didn't make a mistake with the punctuation in my last sentence. It wasn't really a question, but more of a statement.

Have ever read a play, just for the experience ... like a book? Me either, until this past semester. But maybe we should be reading plays for interest because doing so can give you some real insight into theatre and the ways in which a story is told.

For instance, why would a writer choose to tell their story as a play instead of a novel? Or a short story? Or a poem? It's an interesting question ... one that bears some thought, if you are interested in literature.

In my Literary Criticism class, we studied a play called, Heroes and Saints. It is the story of a Mexican-American family dealing with the affects of pesticide poisoning in the 1980s. Although the family is fictional, the story came as a response to the events surrounding the United Farm Workers' grape boycott and 36-day fast of the Union's president, Cesar Chavez, in 1988. It is similar to the Erin Brockovich story, except that those affected by the poisoning were all immigrant farm workers. Children were dying from bizarre diseases, infants were stillborn, babies were born with limbs missing ... the pesticides were gravely affecting the workers and their families.

The opening scene is of a group of children, moving across a field, erecting a cross, and hanging  a dead baby on it ... in a mock crucifixion. Not a word is spoken until the silence is broken by a helicopter as it moves across the night, showering the crops (and the nearby residents) with the deadly chemicals. Pretty powerful, huh? The ending is equally as moving and you will come to love the characters in between. Once you know Cerezita, you will NEVER forget her ... I promise you ...

Heroes and Saints is one of three plays in Cherrie Moraga's book, Heroes and Saints & Other Plays (1994). Although we only studied one play, I read all three. All three plays centre around Mexican-American families and the struggles they face. Moraga is described as a Chicana writer, a feminist activist, a essayist/poet/playwrite and a lesbian. Her writing tends to focus on issues faced by the Mexican-American, the family dynamic, Chicanas, homosexuality and the Mexican culture.

I thoroughly enjoyed these plays and wish I could see Heroes and Saints in a theatre. So, if you want to read a play - just for fun and enjoyment - pick up this book ... or you can borrow mine ...

The brain is a very powerful piece of machinery. One of its jobs is to protect you ... from things that can hurt you, destroy you. My brain has been very good at its job.

When Caiden was just an infant, I took him to Kindermusik classes. Parents attend with their infants and sing songs with simple actions. We stopped going when he was about two-and-a-half-years old because Mommy could not coordinate the class with his baby sister's nap routine - I guess you know where my priorities lie. I highly recommend these classes to all parents ... they're fun and Caiden loved them so much.

There was one song though ... it had a tune that upset me. I mean, this little lullaby moved me to tears every time I heard it. And yet, I was drawn to it; in fact, I loved it. I had no idea why. One day, Jonesy walked in while it was playing and saw the tears in my eyes. I explained the affect the song had on me and he knew why ...

"It is the tune from Blackbird," he told me. I just looked at him blankly, because not only did I not know the song he was referring to, but I had no idea how it related to me. "You know, the song they played at your brother's funeral ..." But that was more than twenty years ago.

I still had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't even know they played music at Joel's funeral. In fact, I don't really remember the funeral at all. Shouldn't I remember that? But I don't ... because my brain is protecting me from it ... from the memories and the hurt.

Last summer, I won a copy of  Alice Kuiper's new book, The Worst Thing She Ever Did (2010). I would like to tell you that I just haven't had time to read it, but that would only be half true. I think I have been avoiding it. You see, the story is of Sophie who has tragically lost her sister, and she is trying to deal with the loss ... and, I was afraid that some painful memories would surface. And I might not be able to deal with it ...

But, I handled it ... I mean, a few tears were shed but that happens often when I read. I could relate to so much of what Sophie goes through ... her sense of looking for some sort of "normal-ness" in life, her feeling like an outsider, her wishing things could just go back to the way it used to be. She walks through the street, quite literally as her world is crashing down around her, and everyone else is just going about their daily lives. I recall going to the grocery store (when the police were still searching for Joel's body), and wondering how everybody could just go on, like nothing had changed. How could people just buy their groceries when my brother had drowned and I did not know what to do? I honestly didn't know what I was suppose to do next.

Sophie moves through the first year of life without her sister with the help of a therapist, and begins to write poetry. She does not want to remember and forces the memories away. But the more she remembers the good times with her sister, the more she is able to come to terms with Emily's death. Until she remembers everything. And that is all I will tell you ... because you should read it for yourself.

My only criticism of the whole story is that I find it difficult to believe this young, seventeen-year-old emotionally distraught girl could write the insightful, mature, abstract poem that she finishes by the end of the book. Because if there is one thing that I have learned over this past semester, it is that a poem is not something that you just jot down - its greatness comes together after a great deal of thought. Read some e e cummings, to see what I am getting at. But that is just me ... perhaps I am a non-believer, a cynic.

I wonder what would have flowed from my brain to a piece of paper in the months following Joel's death ...

Now, when I listen to Blackbird - which is not very often - I become very sad, and introspective, and teary. But I have come to understand why. And I live in fear of the day, I let myself remember ...




I read another book by Alice Kuipers ... click here to check out my thoughts on it.

Thanks to the girls at Let the Words Flow for the book!!

And, to read more about my brother, click here.

My Dad borrowed them if you can believe it. He borrowed my History books ... the ones I was forced to read for school. Honestly ... what is wrong with him? He packed them up and took them to the beach in Florida ... I swear to you, it's true.

In the History of the World: Part 1 class that I took last semester, I was forced asked to read two books and then write a paper (on each) answering one of three questions posed by the professor. Sounds easy enough, doesn't it? Ha!

I just tried to look pretty.

On the first day of class, the professor showed the students pictures of famous leaders (of state) or historical figures that most people would/should be able to recognize. I could name maybe three of twenty. I know ... that's ridiculous ... Now, perhaps, you can understand why it was important for me to take a course like this. I don't know world history very well.

So, to cover up my stupidity, I tried to look my prettiest.

I was eager to read the book, Hitler (Kershaw, 1991). Who wouldn't be? I mean, Hitler is probably one of (if not) the most notorious figures in world history. Kershaw is OBSESSED with Adolph Hitler. He has written no less than ten books on him and the whole Nazi regime. I am not obsessed, but I am curious. Hitler is not a biography but a look at how a guy like Adolph Hitler came to be in such a great position of (world) power.

You might think that Hitler was a man of prestige and influence from an early age. But, he wasn't. In fact, he was utterly forgettable and had few friends. He wanted to attend art school but was denied entrance more than once; it devastated him and he was left searching for direction in his life. He joined an extremist political group, and to the surprise of even himself, Hitler had a gift for speaking to groups of people. He was inspiring and full of passion. And, so the Nazi party used him as a face to inspire support from the masses. He inspired people to do really, really bad things. It's just too bad that he didn't use his gift for public speaking for good instead of such evil.

So, the book was interesting ... but I would rather have been reading James Joyce's Ulysses - which I still have not read, by the way. Ugh.

Earlier in the semester, I read Great Leaps Forward by Cyrus Veeser (2010). It profiles four state leaders and the way(s) in which they attempted to modernize/industrialize their countries at the turn of the twentieth century. Porfirio Diaz of Mexico, Mustafa Kemal of Turkey, Emperor Menelik II of Ethiopia, and Sun Yat Sen of China each tried to modernize their country so it could remain competitive and powerful in the world market. But it was also important for them to maintain the culture and tradition of their people. For me, this book was mildly interesting ... but it really wasn't the book's fault. It's just that I would NEVER read this book out of interest ... did you hear that, Dad? Not ever ...

I would just try to look pretty.

And so, although I get to count them toward my self-imposed challenge, I am not sure that I can recommend them for reading pleasure. Unless you are a real history buff. Like my Dad. Maybe he would like to read my essays too?

At the end of the semester, the professor helped the class with an exam review by showing images of the historical leaders we had (supposedly) studied, along with some other key images we should have known ... like The Schlieffen Plan or the Tennessee Valley Authority. Do you know what The Schlieffen Plan is? No, of course you don't ... only a History Major has a handle on information such as this. Well, History Majors plus me, I guess ... 

You want to know if I could identify more than three out of twenty images at the end of the semester, don't you? Of course, I could ... but I didn't know all of them.

So, I just sat quietly ... trying to look pretty.  

Sometimes people have a knack for choosing books. You know what I mean, right? The person chooses a book that is always interesting or grabs your attention for some reason. And that same person always orders something in a restaurant that looks better than what you ordered, don't they? In reality, it probably just means that you and that person are like-minded, and you enjoy the same things.

Caiden is this person for me.

One day, earlier this month, he brought home a book from the school library called, How to Heal a Broken Wing, by Bob Graham (2008). To be honest, I'm not really sure why he chose this book because it is actually for a much younger child. I suspect he was attracted to the picture on the front. Or the teacher announced it was time to go and he picked the book closest to him. For whatever reason, this book made its way to me. And Addison.

It is the story of a little boy who notices an injured bird on a busy city street, and he brings it home to nurse it back to health. Nothing extraordinary about that ... sounds like a typical story for a child. What attracted me to this book is that the story is told with use of pictures instead of words ... well, there are some words, but not very many.

When I "read" it with Addie C. at bedtime, a wonderful thing happened .... she told me the story. We followed the pictures along, and she told me what happened to the little birdie and the little boy. It was great to hear her perspective ... not that we don't hear her perspective on every single thing, every single day ... but this was different. It was her interpretation ... which, if you really listen to your children, can be fascinating. It can give you a peek into the person they are, and hopefully you will like what you see.

Pick up a picture book for your child some time ... it could be the best thing you ever "read" together.

Click here to learn about another one of the books Caiden introduced me to.

Sometimes, as a reader, you are just surprised. And, sometimes reading one thing leads to reading another. And to learning about new things, people, or times in history. When all these things happen as a result of one reading, you've pretty much hit the jackpot.

When I began reading Ray Robertson's, Moody Food, I was a little sceptical. I mean, Ray Robertson grew up in Chatham .... that's where I grew up. But that's not what made me sceptical ... he grew up living just down the street from Jonesy, playing road hockey with all the boys in the neighbourhood. Now, I don't mean to stereotype writers or anything ... but, in my mind, literary genius does not begin with a little boy tripping other little boys so he can get a good shot on net. In my mind, literary genius begins with a child who spends all his/her spare time reading and/or writing; he is quiet, and reserved. He does not spend his afternoons screaming "I'm open!"  to teammates, or practicing slap shots, or slashing "friends'" shins. No, in my mind, literary genius cannot develop from a little boy who probably sat on the curb, trash-talking his opponents just because it was his turn to sit out a shift. Writers are sensitive observers of life, right?

Wait ... perhaps I am projecting what I know (and understand) of Jonesy's hockey career on to poor, unsuspecting Ray Robertson. Because my mind is wrong ... Moody Food is the work of pure literary genius.

Plus, Robertson was able to do one thing that no other person in the other entire world has been able to do for me ... but more on that later.

Moody Food is the story of Bill Hansen, a University of Toronto drop-out, working at a Yorkville bookstore in the summer of 1965. The story is fresh and cool and written in a way that is sure to draw you in. Bill inadvertently becomes friends with Thomas Graham, a draft-dodging American musician with a penchant for drug experimentation. They ultimately form a band and make a run for the big-time. They even brush elbows with Jim Morrison and The Doors. And, the way it is written you feel like you are actually on the road with these guys ... like you are at The Whiskey.

Although the story is of Bill Hansen, it is Thomas Graham who fascinates me. He is loosely based on singer-songwriter Gram Parsons. In fact, the similarities are unmistakable ... Thomas Graham = Gram Parsons ... from the beginning of their lives to the end.

Do you know who Gram Parsons is? Me either ... I had never heard of him but he has a wonderfully tragic story and I can understand why Robertson was drawn to him. Parsons was born in 1946, the son of wealthy citrus farmers in Georgia. Sadly, his childhood was fraught with tragedy ... his alcoholic father committed suicide when Parsons was only twelve years old;  and his alcoholic mother re-married a man who would devastate the entire family because of an extramarital affair shortly before her untimely death in 1965. Gram Parsons became active in the music industry in the early 1960s, playing in rock and roll cover bands. He eventually joined The Byrds and in 1969, he formed his own band, The Flying Burrito Brothers. Parsons also collaborated with Emmylou Harris toward the end of his life.

Parsons was set to begin a (musical) tour in October 1973, but wanted to get away and relax with friends before leaving. He had become infatuated with the Joshua Tree National Monument (in California), so Parsons arranged for some friends to stay at a hotel just outside the park for a couple of nights. This would allow him to wander around in search of UFOs while high on LSD ... a preferred way to pass the time. Parsons died September 19, 1973 of an accidental overdose of morphine and alcohol in Joshua Tree, California.

But here's where things get really crazy ...

Parsons had mentioned to a couple of friends that, when he died, he wanted to be cremated and his ashes spread over Cap Rock, a prominent natural feature of the National Monument. So, on the day his body was to be returned to his family, these same friends stole the hearse (with Parsons' body inside) from the airport in LA. They drove it to Joshua Tree, where they attempted cremation by pouring about five gallons of gasoline into the open coffin and lighting it with a match. Of course, a huge fireball resulted. The culprits fled on foot and outran the police. They were arrested a couple of days later, and charged with some petty offences, resulting in only a $750 fine.

That is a true story. Sometimes the best stories are based on fact ... because really, you cannot make something like that up ...

So, I bet you are wondering what the thing is ... the thing that Ray Robertson did for me that no one else in the whole world has done. Get ready for it ... because it so unlike me ... He made cocaine seem appealing - which is not a postive thing, of course. And everything my Mom told me would happen if you mess around with drugs, happened to Bill Hansen and Thomas Graham. She taught me that dabbling in small-time drugs like marijuana inevitably leads to trying more hard core (highly addictive) drugs - which is essentially what transpires  in the story. But, the way in which it is written makes the descent seem not so bad ... I mean, they got a lot of stuff done while snorting cocaine. Like, I could get all the laundry done and clean the whole house in one day 'cause I could stay awake for 24hrs in a row. Or imagine all the reading you could get done! Obviously, I will not be trying to score any blow/nose candy/snow/coke but this was the first time (in my whole life) that drugs (other than my good friend, alcohol) did not thoroughly disgust me.

I was very excited when I read that Ray Robertson had attended Bookfest Windsor in 2009, hoping that I could get a chance to chat with him this year. But he did not attend this year ... so I'm left hoping for next year? Oh ... I just wish I could hang out with him sometime ...

Robertson has published six books and a book of essays. What Happened Next is next on my "Ray Robertson" reading list. Jonesy read it and he really enjoyed it ... it recalls some of Robertson's time as a child growing up in Chatham and his obessession with Jack Kerouac. And so, it was with great enthusiasm that I found some Kerouac in my American Literature Anthology ... hopefully that means I'll get to study his work next semester.



Check out Ray Robertson's website.

Source for information on Gram Parsons.