"O!"

A (fairly typical) page from the "text work" section of my script

It's one of my favorite words in Shakespeare--the infamous "O" that leads off speeches like the Chorus's Prologue to Henry V. When I introduce Shakespeare to my freshmen, we play the "O Game." Students stand in a circle around me, and I give them only one rule: no matter what I tell them, the only word they have at their disposal is that all-purpose "O." We then wind our way through several scenarios: I bring them a little fluffy puppy to snuggle; I tell them that they get to go to their favorite restaurant for dinner tonight; they watch a prom proposal result in a "no" in a public location on campus; they smell raw sewage from a pipe break while on their drives home. Each "O" becomes its own unique language, and the students start to realize the inflections, intonations, and impulses that can affect how an actor chooses to use the word.

As a result, when I came across an "O" while in rehearsals for act 3, scene 4, of Twelfth Night last night, I realized that I had some choices. In the asides in question (the ones pictured above), I've just realized that there's a very real chance my twin brother, Sebastian, survived the shipwreck at the start of the play; in fact, it seems, I've been mistaken for him by another sailor. At the start of rehearsal, I struggled with the speeches; I seemed to be playing them as a single note, and I had no idea how to employ that "O" in the second to last line to its best possible use. Throughout a 45-minute period, my director coaxed me into a clearer understanding of the meaning; she encouraged me to take her on Viola's journey of discovery rather than just assuming I understood the implications of hearing Sebastian's name from the start. As I worked through the speech one more time, I was surprised to realize that this "O" was not a moment of wishful thinking; it was, instead, a moment of hopeful surety--though I don't know how Sebastian will be returned to me, I finally think it's quite possible that he will be.

And so I left rehearsal wondering if I could use "O" as a barometer for my own life. How often do I assume that my level of exhaustion will result in an "ugh" kind of "O" class rather than an "O!" one? How readily do I defeat myself before starting a run with an "O(h well)" rather than an "O(kay!)"? And when was the last time I really thought "O!" (we will have a family one day) rather than "O?" (there's another inevitable setback in our journey?

Today, I'm putting "O" on the table and letting it lead me where it will. I wonder what discoveries I'll make along the way.

A Love Letter

It's the day after Valentine's, so it's an appropriate time for a love letter, isn't it? As you might suspect, a good part of this one is written to that amazing man I was blessed enough to meet nearly seven years ago, but there's also a piece of my heart reserved for one of our favorite students--ever. J, one of the most talented student artists we've ever encountered, stole our hearts about five years ago when she began painting sets for our shows, and, in spite of the fact that she's now in college and far away from us, she's a part of our lives every day.

The story of this love letter begins with a songwriter by the name of Leonard Cohen. For as long as I've known him, Jeff has loved Cohen, but I was never really able to get on board with the gravelly, bordering-on-off-key voice that Jeff loves so much. As a result, I missed out on the lyrics to Jeff's favorite song--until he put them in a card one holiday early in our relationship. From then on, "Dance Me to the End of Love" became one of my favorite songs.

Fast forward to the day that we had to tell our beloved J that we were leaving New Jersey to move to Virginia. That spring, J--a junior--was in my Shakespeare elective, and she broke down when she learned Jeff and I would be leaving, and we broke down when we realized we'd never again encounter a student quite like her. But J moved beyond her sadness and looked towards our joy, and she told us she wanted to paint us something as her project for the Art Show later that spring. After consulting with us, she determined that we needed an entry table--which we did--and she went to work. Along the way, she asked me what we love most in the world aside from each other, and I offered possibly the most confusing answer to an artist ever: "J, we love theatre, walks in the woods, ballroom dancing, your Georgia O'Keefe-inspired painting--oh, and that Leonard Cohen song!"

To have a student care enough to know you well is a rarity. To have that student love your spouse, too, is even more unusual. And to have a student pour her heart into a piece of art for you and your spouse--well, so far for us, that's once in a lifetime. And that's why we are so blessed every time we walk up the stairs of our little townhouse, because we see this:

In the photo above, you can see so much of Jeff and me: the curtains of a theatre opening to reveal our initial, the words of our favorite song, a piece of J's original O'Keefe-inspired painting we loved so much. But walk up the stairs all the way, and you'll see the top of the table's upper level.

That night in the spring of 2010 when J revealed the finished product to me during her art show, I burst into tears. To receive a love letter (and there is an actual letter on the back of this piece of art, but that's just for me and Jeff) is an overwhelming experience any time--but to receive it from one who knows you so well is beyond compare. J's love letter was in the form of her passion, but it was about our passions--and she is part of our lives every day as we see her work in front of us.

But J's art inspires us to dance to the end of love, "through the panic till I'm gathered safely in." And that's tonight's love letter, part 2. I'll make it short and sweet, because--amazing readers of this blog--you know the panic that's been our reality for the past 13+ months. In every stage of that journey, Jeff has gathered me and safely taken me in. So it will come as no surprise to you--though it was a surprise to me--that I discovered this in my classroom yesterday afternoon when I returned from study hall:

My husband knows me so well that his card stated that he didn't want me to be the only girl at school without flowers (in fact, I was one of the envied few with flowers!) and that he also knew I'd never eat a box of chocolate, so he was including a bag of Pirate's Booty. He didn't make me cry--he made me laugh out loud. After all, what else is there to do in the face of a year full of panic?

Today, my tulips bloomed, and my students ooh-ed and aah-ed over them throughout each class period. I told stories of this man I love so much--of his success last night with his first Code 20 performance and of his love of our little boy-cat, Ozzy. Most of all, though, I just remained grateful for the panic he's seen us through and the strength he offers me as we face tomorrow.

So, J and "Rabbit" (the only name I call Jeff by at home), you are my loves tonight. "Thank you" are words too small and trite for the gifts you've given by opening your hearts to me in return.

Brussels Sprouts and Chicken Pasta

Yesterday, on the way home from lunch with friends, Jeff and I mentioned that we really needed to do our grocery shopping for the week. Our good friend, M, actually snorted from the backseat. When we inquired about her reaction, she informed us that, when she needs to shop, it's because there's literally one yogurt left in her fridge; however, when we need to shop, there's barely space in our refrigerator already. As far as I was concerned, M's observation was a challenge--and I say, "Challenge Accepted."

So, last night for dinner, we did one of our favorite tricks to use up miscellaneous produce: pizza night. Using a pre-made dough from Trader Joe's, we loaded our pizza with everything in the fridge that was on its last legs: scallions, green peppers, bratwurst, tomatoes, marinated artichoke hearts, and even some arugula sprinkled across the top. The pies turned out delicious, and Jeff has dinners for nights at work this week!

However, I wasn't ready to throw in the towel yet. As a result, knowing we still had chicken breasts and shaved Brussels sprouts (another great product from Trader Joe's!), I went on a hunt for recipes this morning. I found two of particular interest: Chicken Breast with Shaved Brussels Sprouts and Pasta with Shaved Brussels Sprouts and Pancetta. With a whole lot of (well-acted) bravado, I stepped into the kitchen tonight--and, if I do say so myself--the results were tremendous!

I almost forgot to take a picture, so this is only 1/3-1/2 of a serving left!

Ingredients:
1 (heaping) cup farfalle (bowtie) pasta
1 chicken breast
1 garlic clove (minced)
2 cups shaved Brussels sprouts (if you don't have access to pre-cut ones, just slice thinly)
2 broccoli stems (no florets needed!)
5 pieces crispy (turkey) bacon
2 tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Drizzle of balsamic vinegar
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese (to taste)

Sous-chef reporting for duty--thank goodness for the new bench!

Directions:

1) Place chicken and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a small saucepan and cover with water; bring to a boil. Immediately remove from heat, cover, and let stand 15 minutes. Drain chicken and run under cold water. Cool completely; set aside. Using 2 forks, shred into bite-size pieces; reserve.

2) Cook (turkey) bacon according to package directions.

3) Cook pasta according to package directions.

3) Using a vegetable peeler, peel off the topmost layer of the broccoli stems and discard. Then, continue peeling in long, thin strips. (When I got to the point where it was too thin to keep peeling, I just sliced the remaining stem very thinly.)

4) In a wok (or large saute pan), heat 1 tbsp olive oil. Once heated, add garlic. Cook for approximately 3 minutes, until fragrant. Next, add in Brussels sprouts and shaved broccoli stems. Toss with garlic and continue to cook as vegetables soften, adding salt and pepper.

5) Once vegetables are tender, add shredded chicken, cooked pasta, and crumbled bacon to the wok, continuing to toss. Add remaining tablespoon of olive oil (to taste), grated Parmesan cheese (to taste), and juice of 1/2 lemon. Put into bowls and drizzle balsamic vinegar on top.

6) Enjoy!

** For my gluten-free friends--I'm thinking of you, Jenn!--I imagine you could forgo the pasta and add more shaved broccoli stems since they're almost the consistency of pasta! **

Jeff says I can make this as often as I like--he's clearly a fan!

Hello, Kale!

It's Sunday--welcome to this week's salad! Last week was an amazing salad: Warm Lentils with Sausage and Kale and a Mustard Vinaigrette. So, now I'm a little obsessed with kale--it's so good for you, and it's actually much easier to cook than I expected. This week, I decided to blend a couple of different recipes I found to create something that used ingredients I already had in the house. Here's what I came up with (with the help of my furry little sous-chef, of course!).

Rosie, reporting for duty!

Salad Ingredients:
3 cups cooked barley (approximately 1 cup uncooked)
16 oz kale
1 tbsp olive oil
1 small/medium onion, chopped
Red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper (to taste)
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup dried cranberries

Dressing Ingredients:
1 part (1 1/2 tbsp) honey
1 part (1 1/2 tbsp) olive oil
2 parts (3 tbsp) apple cider vinegar
Salt and pepper (to taste)

Directions:

1) Cook barley according to package directions (mine took about 1 hour, 15 minutes to cook, so make sure you leave yourself plenty of time!)

2) To cook the kale, first wash and drain it, but don't worry about getting it perfectly dry. (I found kale that was already washed, cut, and bagged; I had to tear it into smaller pieces, but it did make it a lot easier!) Put 1 tbsp olive oil into a wok (or large saute pan) over medium heat. Once it's warm, add the onion, pinch of red pepper flakes, and salt and pepper. Allow the onion to soften and become translucent. Then, after turning the heat up to high, add the kale in large handfuls, tossing it with the onion. Once the kale is tender, reduce the heat to medium, cover the wok, and allow the kale to continue to cook for approximately 15 minutes more (it should be bright green and tender to bite into once it's ready).

Cooking the onion.

3) In a small bowl, mix the cranberries and sunflower seeds.

Jeff, taste-testing my cranberries and sunflower seeds for "safety."

4) In another small bowl, mix the dressing ingredients and whisk to combine.

5) Once the kale and barley are cooked, combine all the ingredients (kale/onion, barley, cranberries/seeds) in a large bowl. Add the dressing a bit at a time, stirring to combine and tasting as you go. (You may not use all the dressing, or you may find you need to make a little more, depending on your preference.)

6) Enjoy!

The Knot

While I've always loved Twelfth Night's Viola, one of her best-known monologues was destroyed for me years ago when virtually every girl was using it for any Shakespeare audition. The famous rhyming couplet that ends the speech is this:

O time! Thou must untangle this, not I;

It is too hard a knot for me to untie!

What resonance those words have for me today, and what a shock that they will be my own when I start rehearsals for Viola early next week. But, to understand why I needed such untangling, you must first understand the knot.

When we had our second miscarriage in December, my world didn't fall apart as I expected it to. I was sad, but this was something we'd been through before. I had no expectations that my cycle would return quickly or that we'd even have the emotional, financial, or mental stamina to dive back into medicated treatment cycles. Once we learned that the next step of the process would be extensive bloodwork (called an "RPL"--or Recurrent Pregnancy Loss--panel), it was almost as if the timeline was out of my hands. And so I stopped counting how many weeks it had been since the D&C or what month might be a possible new due date.

Over the next month or so, I stopped posting on my online support board as regularly as I used to, not because I don't love the amazing women there, but simply because getting pregnant wasn't able to be the thing I focused on the most. I continued to "mentor" two women--one a colleague and one a friend from church--as they went through infertility testing, treatments, and disappointments, but talking to them no longer felt competitive, like I had to get pregnant before them. Slowly I realized that I wasn't trying to make myself focus on things other than starting a family, I just was.

After many consultations with my amazing doctor, my patient therapist, and my ever-supportive husband, I came to a realization: the only reason I felt frantic about getting pregnant as soon as possible was because of my age. Once my doctor took that off the table (the fact that I turn 36 in May is not medically related--at least in any way we can tell--to our difficulty getting pregnant or sustaining pregnancy), a weight came off my shoulders. And then I began to think: what are all the things Jeff and I haven't done in the last year because our lives have been centered around testing and treatments?

Realization 1: We moved into our house over a year ago, yet we haven't bought a single piece of furniture for the inside of it (we did buy a beautiful set for our deck for long summer evenings with friends). We were blessed, several years ago, with incredible family furniture through a few different sources, so we haven't needed anything, but this isn't about need. So, we perked up our kitchen last weekend by buying a cute little bench for our bay window and a much-needed spice rack for the wall.

Apparently, Guillie believes the bench was made for her comfort while we cook.
The first time our friends sit on it, it will be a rude awakening!

Our beautiful new spice rack--there's now a whole kitchen cupboard free!

Realization 2: Jeff is doing amazing things at work, and I want to support and encourage him as much as I can. His latest endeavor is a hybrid improv comedy / open mic night with a group of high school students that he helps direct at work. Their opening night is Thursday, February 14, and I can't imagine a more romantic Valentine's than seeing my talented husband doing what he loves.

"Code 20" is a nod to "Radio Channel 1020":
NYFD fire code referring to "Proceed to Fire." This will be exciting stuff!

Realization 3: I haven't done community theatre in four years, and I miss being on stage. To try to rehearse a show and develop a character while doing monitoring appointments, needing nightly shots, and scheduling last-minute IUIs would be nearly impossible; however, with those conflicts off the table, I decided to head into the world of auditions again. I found three of particular interest: Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and Neil Simon's Rumors. Having not auditioned in so long, my expectations were low but my standards were high: if I wasn't offered Viola or Olivia (Twelfth Night), Benvolio or Lady Capulet (Romeo and Juliet), or Chris or Cassie (Rumors), I wasn't interested. Much to my delight, I received callbacks for the first two auditions I attended (the Shakespeare plays). And then, yesterday afternoon, much to my shock, I was offered both Viola and Benvolio. After hours of deliberations and many talks with good friends, I decided that--in spite of the long commute to rehearsals--there was no way I could turn down the dream of Viola, especially when it's with an exclusively classical-with-an-edge community theatre that's well known in the DC-metro area.

Our Twelfth Night theme: set in the 1980s, Orsino and Olivia are in dueling bands.

And so, I think, I've finally untied the knot. Until Twelfth Night opens in early May, I'll be completely engaged in that process. It doesn't mean that Jeff and I don't still long to be parents, but it means that we're working on our own loves for a little while--both individually and together--so that we can pass on the importance of pursuing our passions to our own family one day.

Viola's right: untangling the knot just took a little time.

To my dear friends reading this who haven't heard from me in a bit: I'm clearly still here! :-) Email anytime and know that all my love and support is still coming to each of you.