Author: Sara Olds

After months of wanting a plant in my room and complaining to my roommate to get me one, I finally got my wish.  His name is Francesco and he is a Wandering Jew.  For those of you who aren’t botanists or who don’t have sacred relations with plants, a Wandering Jew is a plant with long purple and green leaves that grow sporadically.  I like to say Francesco has a mind of his own because of his wild growth patterns.  He is a free man and no mother can constrain him.  He is a rebellious teenager and I just have to let him grow.

Things have really changed since he has come into my life.  First of all, I never feel completely alone anymore now that I have him in my room.  It is a comforting, yet also a weird feeling, like I am always being watched.  He is a living being, so it would make sense that I can feel his presence, right?  He is almost like a child.  I have to water him and tend to him when he is sick (by plucking off his dying leaves).  He would die without me.  He is dependent upon me and I like that feeling.

You know how people say that the elderly live longer when they have plants?  Well, maybe there is a correlation with plants and college students, too?  Maybe they are a stress reducer or a boyfriend reducer…one of the two.

Since he has come into my room he has flourished.  I think I have to repot him soon, he is outgrowing his current one.  I do not know much about plants, but I won’t tell him that.  He thinks I am the best Mom in the world.  He is my first plant child and I look forward to a long relationship with him.

Cooking is my safe haven.  I enjoy washing, dicing, cutting, pealing, sizzling, stirring, baking, and yes of course, eating.  I had a few friends over the other night and I prepared a new dish called Incredible Baked Cauliflower and Broccoli Cannelloni that I found off the cooking channel.  The ‘incredible’ preface is not deceiving.  This dish will make your mouth water and leave you wanting more.  Here’s what you do.

Total Time:                         1 hr 30 min

Prep:                                     20 min

Cook:                                     1 hr 10 min

Yield:                                     4 to 6 servings

Level:                                     Intermediate

Ingredients:

Sea Salt

1 pound broccoli, washed, florets and stalks chopped

1 pound white cauliflower, washed

Olive oil

7 cloves garlic, peeled and finely sliced

1 small bunch fresh thyme, leaves picked

2 cups tomato sauce

2 cups crème fraiche (found at Trader Joe’s)

7 ounces Parmesan, finely grated

16 cannelloni tubes

7 ounces mozzarella cheese

Directions

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil and drop in the chopped broccoli and cauliflower. Boil for 5 to 6 minutes, until cooked, then drain.

In a new saucepan dribble some olive oil and the garlic.  Stir around for a few minutes before adding the cooked broccoli and cauliflower.  Add a couple tablespoons of water.  Stir everything together and then cook slowly for 15-20 minuets.  Mash up the veggies with a potato masher and season with salt and pepper.

Find a baking sheet and coat the bottom layer with the tomato sauce.  Then to make the white sauce, add the crème fraiche with half the Parmesan, salt and pepper and a little bit of water and stir together.

Fill your cannelloni tubes with the mashed veggies.  Place them on top of the tomato sauce and then add the white sauce over them.  Season with salt and pepper, add the remaining Parmesan and place the mozzarella on top.  Drizzle with olive oil and bake in oven for 30 to 40 minutes.

There you have it!  Enjoy and happy cooking!

She steps outside and the air feels refreshing.

She takes a deep breath and holds the coldness in her lungs until it burns.

She feels alive.

She walks down the sidewalk loosing her footing with every step.

She finds it hard to walk in, but is not annoyed by the difficulty.

The snow packed sidewalk makes her slip in a drunken manner that makes her smile.

Nature is playing with her.

The wind is howling in her ears and slipping inside her coat sending a shiver through her body.

A shiver that she does not welcome, but understands.

Her hood falls with the push of the wind, exposing her naked ears.

At this point her cheeks have rouged and her lips are dry.

She puts her hood back up but to no avail. The wind is stubborn.

It wants to play and it won’t allow her to hide.

She eventually gives in but still tilts her head shying away from the wind.

She is not in the mood to play.

The wind dies for a moment allowing her to peer into the sky.

She stops walking and stares in front of her for a moment squinting in the sunlight.

Just then a snowflake falls on her lips and surprises her by its delicate presence.

She’s been kissed by winter.

I am making it publicly known, possibly against the better judgment that I, a member of the Harry Potter generation is actually a fraud.   I have in fact, yet to read the Harry Potter series.  There, I said it!  Phew…a weight has been lifted.  I didn’t know it was such a blemish on my record until I came to college.  Everyone I met had read them and ostracized me when they found out I had not.   Even though my best friend of three and a half years won’t admit it, I know she is embarrassed that I really don’t know about Hogwarts.

I avoid telling people this sad factoid about myself until it either a. comes up in conversation where there is no avoiding it for I can’t lie or b. I get to know them for a year and a half and feel compelled to share my deepest darkest secrets with them.  Since you reader, have not asked I had to resort to option b, telling you at about the year and a half point in our relationship.  If you kept reading to this point you are probably experiencing shortness of breath, dizziness and I might advise you to begin breathing slowly into a paper bag.  The shock will subside within a few minutes, so don’t be alarmed.

Now that you are at the point of breathing normal again, this is where most people ask, “I don’t understand, how did you not read Harry Potter?!”  Well, like most things in life, I blame it on my parents.  They forced me into sports and didn’t expose me to the fantastical life J.K Rowling created.  So thanks Mom and Dad for ruining my childhood and adulthood and sending me into a life of a recluse.

I will end this story with good news for all.  I have made it my short term goal to complete the Harry Potter series by April in hopes of regaining a piece of my childhood and avoiding ridicule in the real world.  However, when I went to the library to check out the first book, it was already gone!  I knew there were others out there like myself lurking in the shadows.  Come out and let yourself be known…and also, return the book!

Why is it that people are obsessed with taking pictures of their pets?  My roommates and I have a kitten.  We think like any new mother thinks that her child is THE cutest baby in the entire world.  But don’t worry my roommates and I aren’t delusional, we really do have the world’s most adorable kitten.  Therefore we find every opportunity we can to capture our feline, Princess Tigerlily Mancos-Davis (her birth name) doing something picture worthy.  What constitutes ‘picture worthy’ you ask?  Well, really her just sitting there or lying dormant will do.  We don’t need much encouragement to snap a camera in her face.  It’s nice when we can muster a smile out of her, but she’s a cat and often bossy, so smiles are rare.

On many occassions we have stopped our human activities such as intense conversations, eating and cooking when Tigerlily is looking photogenic, one of us yelling throughout the house, “where’s the camera, where’s the camera!”  Those of us in the house hear the urgency in our roommate’s voice, knowing what it is about and scamper in and out of rooms looking for the camera.

Even though our cat looks adorable day in a day out, we still feel compelled to capture her essence daily.  Absurd?  I think not.  So where does this compulsion come from?  Possible hypotheses include, we are simply cat ladies.  Our cat really is the cutest cat and should obviously be as popular as Boo is on Facebook (dogs are always stealing our thunder.)  Another option is our cat and pets are extensions of ourselves and we are intrinsically self absorbed species.  Taking pictures of yourself on a daily basis is frowned upon and often labeled ‘vain,’ however taking pictures of your animals is normal and widely condoned, thus getting around the system of vanity.

Check out Princess Tigerlily Mancos-Davis on Facebook.  She is eager for new friends and photographers!

I do not consider myself a person with an obsessive personality.  However, when it comes to Frida Kahlo, I would only use one term to describe my feelings for her, obsessed.  I don’t know when the obsession started, I cannot pinpoint one day or event, but somehow I have accumulated books, artwork and small images of her around my room.  Where I go Frida seems to follow.

I read the book Frida: A Biography of Frida Kahlo, by Hayden Herrera a few years back.  From this biography I learned about Frida’s relationship with Diego Rivera, how he would often have numerous lovers while with Frida and how they loved each other, yet hurt each other so often at the same time.  I also read that one of Diego’s lovers was no other than Frida’s sister!  What betrayal.

Frida never fit in growing up.  She was the black sheep and the odd ball out, so to say.  An accident when she was a teenager only worsened this label.  She was in a streetcar accident where one of the railings from the streetcar entered her body through her back.  After this incident, she never fully recovered, and complications due to this event were eventually what killed her.  She had numerous surgeries on her back and leg that left her bed ridden and this is where she painted a lot of her self-portraits.  She walked with a noticeable limp and finally had to get her leg amputated.  I have had back problems of my own, not nearly as bad as hers, but still like to equate my pain with hers.  I look to her paintings as a place to examine her suffering.  Her honesty through her self-portraits is comforting for me and I think this is why I love her so much.

She is my inspiration.  Even though she lived a hard life, she lived it well, creating masterpieces that created not only an outlet of her own, but also an example for others to follow and resonate with.  She was beautiful, truthful and inspiring as both a female and an artist.