Cooking/Julie & Julia

Those who read the blog directly will notice that Julie and Julia has moved from "current" to "read."

One of the things I received/retrieved at Christmas-time was my mother's copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It is a volume which I purchased for her as a gift back when I was in high school and worked at the local public library. [Somewhere is her copy of MtAoFC Volume 2, but my siblings have not found it yet, which was also a gift.]

I saw the movie (and loved it), and then went and read Julia's My Life in France before tackling the Julie Powell book. I think that having seen the movie first, and having read Julia's book before Julie's book, helped me enjoy the Julie/Julia project better.

Now, I will also admit that my memory of the Julia book (i.e., MtAoFC) had been of my mother making Lobster Bisque (which is not in volume 1, and must be in volume 2).

Later this summer, I will be retrieving some items from my storage locker in Wisconsin which includes a kitchen Dutch Oven which will let me try some of the recipes in this volume.

Would I ever do what Julie Powwell did? No way! Do I admire what she did? Absolutely!

One year ago

It was a year ago yesterday that my mom died.

Here are the two posts from that time, one is actually what my daughter said.




Caption for Megan's photo:

L to R sitting on the floor: Gregory, Brian, Mark Leach, Justin Elmore, Andy Doucette, Matthew Toney, Kyle, Ed. Second row: Christina Kennedy (now Greg's wife), Megan, Carolyn, Karen Doucette, my mom (holding Bridget Elmore), Collen, Nancy Doucette, Amanda Leach. Third row: Jill (ex wife), Meg Leach (sister #1, child #3), Helen Elmore (sister #4, child #8), Sue Doucette (sister #2, child #4), Diane (Paul's wife), Beth Toney (sister #3, child #7), Jeanne (Peter's wife). Back row: me (eldest all around), John Elmore (Helen's husband), Jimbo Doucette (Sue's husband), Thomas (brother #3, child #6), Paul (brother #2, child #5), Peter (brother #1, child #2).

Edit Note: My daughter properly pointed out that I had flip-flopped my eldest sister and her daughter. I have now corrected that. Thanks, Megan!

Reflections on my mother

I launched Facebook this morning to find that my daughter and a niece had posted comments about my brother-in-law's Calivn and Hobbes post and analysis. Here is what they said:

your dad's email totally made me cry in the middle of the computer lab today. thanks a lot uncle jimbo!

yeah, me too. it's nice to think of it that way, cause it's so true. but I agree with Calvin, just because she lives in us, doesn't make it any easier to deal with the fact that she's not out there in the world anymore. well, I don't know...just having a hard time with it today.

One of the things I have learned this winter and spring is the importance of sharing personal feelings and I am glad to both see their comments, and see that their comments reflect my feelings.

More reflections on my mother

One of my brothers-in-law sent this note out to the family today. I'll post the PDF file, if I can figure out how, or you can email me for it.

I get a daily Calvin & Hobbes cartoon on my Google home page. A couple weeks ago, there was one about a baby raccoon, where Calvin said "You don't get to be Mom if you can't fix everything just right." I thought you Moms and all of us, as children of a Mom, might appreciate that.

As the days went on, the story of the raccoon developed into one of sadness as Calvin dealt with the mortality of the little raccoon. It made me think of Nancy when he said, "Don't die, little raccoon. It wouldn't be very grateful of you to break my heart." It sounded like something Nancy would have said when she was little.

When the raccoon died in the comic strip, it was the day of Mother's funeral. Calvin's Dad said, "At least he died warm and safe, Calvin. We did all we could, but now he's gone." And Calvin replied, "I know. I'm crying because out there he's gone, but he's not gone inside me." That sure hit home, and I thought it was very well put.

The series ended with Calvin saying, "Mom says death is as natural as birth, and it's all part of the life cycle. She says we don't really understand it, but there are many things we don't understand, and we just have to do the best we can with the knowledge we have."

I put the strips together to share with you, if you're interested. I hope this message doesn't offend or upset anyone, but I thought the way the comic dealt with death was both touching and cute, and it made me feel better.

More reminiscences

My daughter posted to her LJ account both a photo, and some wonderful thoughts about my mother, her grandmother. I thought about linking, but decided that it is probably more appropriate to quote her. She is a really great kid, and I just love what she says. Some of it is part of what I remember hearing also. Here is what she wrote (punctuation is hers, not mine, this is a cut and paste, the photo was her choice also):

my grandmother passed away on wednesday. that's her in the middle, in the green sweater. i guess you could consider her a matriarch.

She was born in 1925. she grew up on riverside drive in manhattan. she told me stories of playing in the hudson and all around the city. she was turned into a paper doll. she was apparently hot stuff and went on lots of dates. she knew from high school that she wanted to do medical research. she went to brown when there was still a seperate women's school. she met my grandfather there, and about a billion generations on both sides had gone to brown. i know she graduated in 1947. i don't know when they married, or exactly what my grandfather did, but i know they had their first child, my dad, in 1953. she had 7 other children over the course of about 12 years. she did research at the worcester foundation for experimental biology at some point. my grandfather died in 1976 of melanoma. her father died some time in the '80s. growing up, there were always easters at grandmas. christmases at the church hall. summers at the beach houses. weekends when she would take care of me and my brothers. trips to mystic, the snapping turtles, the park with the duck pond. brown football games at yale and columbia. her charm bracelet with charms for all of the cousins that she would show to everyone. her "ask me about my grandchildren" license plate. she was the coolest person ever because she was the only one who could rightfully tell my dad to shut up. she was involved in girl scouts, brown sports foundation, a family care clinic, the inland wetlands commission, her church, and more groups that i can't even remember. there is a vernal pool named after her. she lived 7 months and 20 days longer than they gave her.
and that's just off the top of my head.
basically, she was an amazing woman.

Sorrow

It has been quiet here lately. Partly because my mother has not been well. Earlier this afternoon, I heard from one of my brothers that she died peacefully in her sleep at age 82. Posted here is one of the last really good pictures before she began not feeling well a couple years ago. It was taken en route back from dropping my daughter off at college (hence the Boston University shirt on yours truly). Once the obituaries run (tomorrow or the next day), I will also link to them.

When she had a major health crisis this past fall, I spent time with my brothers and sisters. We spent some quality time together and dealt with planning a number of the hard issues, including visiting the funeral home and the local church. That planning has made this particular crisis easier than it otherwise might have been.

The second photo was taken two Christmases ago. It shows my mother and me with all my brothers and sisters ("the siblings" to some of my friends and colleagues). In this photo are (l to r): front: me, Paul, Mom, Peter, Thomas; rear: Meg (Margaret), Beth (Elizabeth), Helen, and Sue (Susetta).