Wednesday, July 3, 2013


I always think my anniversary is May 25th. The wedding was May 24th but that was the dice throw - not the destination. Everyday would begin May 25th. And the destination was life.

It was "everyday" with Paul that I craved. The errands, the cleaning, the planning, the joining, the yearning and the growing.

It isn't everyday that the azaleas are in bloom - but it's part of an everyday.

Everyday is writing or avoiding writing (rubbing cat tummies and deciding where I'd go in my time machine - I have a stellar talent for avoidance.)

It's something like this tilapia  (fish roll-up stuffed with shredded carrots) from Proud Italian Cook.

It's a simple fish roll-up. The fish is spread with pesto and then dimpled with shredded carrots. Add a little bread crumb topping, put in oven and the heat works it magic - and dinner is grand. Find Marie's recipe here.

The rhubarb is up and in Minnesota you learn to love rhubarb - because it's the first thing to make an appearance. It's even abundant along the highways. (Highways! Come on, that's everyday.)   

And because my daughter knows her mother, I am in possession of a lovely book Edible Twin Cities. Paul has already made the requisite strawberry rhubarb pie and there will be many more of those pies during the summer. But I was attracted to this - because it was a wee bit different - a rhubarb meringue pie. It's an old family recipe from the President of the St. Paul's Farmer's Market. The St. Paul Farmer's Market is a true local, farmers market. Everything must be local. Everything. You cannot get early Iowa corn - you must wait for Minnesota (and some of Wisconsin). Unlike the Minneapolis Farmer's Market where you can get bananas and citrus fruit - you cannot get that in the St, Paul market - it must grow within a certain radius of the cities or is ineligible.

The sweet meringue is a perfect foil the rhubarb. Dig down and the sweet tart taste is a wake-up call. And when it's enveloped in all that lovely meringue, it's welcome.

It's not remotely Italian of course. Let's just say it's in the spirit of the Italian tradition: fresh, local, garden-to-table. My grandfather Egidio who was an avid gardener would understand.

Everyday is Luce.

Lately everyday has been turkeys in the yard ... and ducks.

And lately - a fox! (Better watch out duckies!)

And now every day is this:

Part of the MN Fringe Festival. My everydays are better when focused on a show. The website info is here. And after last year's show about coping with grief, a zany, pasta show is in order! (And for chronic readers, an excerpt is here.)

There was another interview: "I Interview Playwrights."  (That would be me.)

And another showcase. Tease.

And - a lot of thinking. About the blog. I am at a loss without google reader and know there are other avenues to explore. But no time to go exploring. Everyday. It's crammed. It's sweet. The La Dolce Vita fairy has visited me. But it's packed.

And I am thinking about my focus with the blog - unlike with a play - do I even have a focus? I have no money/book deal/food writer aspirations. I don't want that. I love my work. And I do want that. For me, this has always been about community. But I think and ponder and obsess. "To blog or not to blog, that is the question?" But I'm not Hamlet and I'm not asking the audience. I'm everyday-Claudia and every-day Claudia needs to focus.  

And rub cat tummies.