summer fears & laziness…

I’m not really afraid of the swimming pool, but last summer, I couldn’t talk myself into going there for a swim. All summer long. At the time, I was still six months out from my Christmas-time illness, in Australia. I went swimming in a pool, got an earache, didn’t deal with it fast enough, went to see the doctor, and then took antibiotics. The antibiotics made me so sick that it almost ruined my vacation, and I was starting to think that hospitalization sounded good.

You can see why I was a little wary of going into the water, afterwards. Oh, I did, several times, but only when invited to do so. It was never my idea. I’m pretty sure I went tubing on Lake Maraboon, once, and I was in a pool with all my Aussie kids. But despite the Aussie heat, I didn’t seek out any swimming opportunities. And when I arrived home, summer was on the doorstep, and I couldn’t talk myself into going to the Clemson Pool.

Today, it was in the 90′s, and even being inside, in the air-conditioning wasn’t keeping me from being too warm. Of course, when I’m doing any kind of physical work, I overheat quickly, so by the time I left after cleaning up, I was roasting. And then stepped out into the heat and humidity, still in my work clothes. Ugh.

Once I was home in the air-conditioning, though, laziness set in. It’s no longer fear of the water and what it might do to me, but it’s been so long since I’ve been in it, I needed to vault out of my rut. So, after doing a few necessary things at home, I forced myself to go find my swimsuit and towel, and drive up Old Stone Church Rd.

When I arrived, I was surprised at so many of the changes, until I saw the showers and bathroom looks exactly the same, a bit dilapidated. But in the years since I’ve been in Australia and PA, they’ve redone the pool, the eating area, and even the outside of the buildings. Also, the gate on the fence, that stays closed, and I almost couldn’t figure out how to open it. The edges of the pool now have fancy stonework, and the bottom of the pool no longer has any lanes. But it’s still the rough bottom to the pool, that will eventually wear the skin off your feet, if you spend as many hours in there as the kids always do.

I managed ten minutes in the sun before adult swim, and then got in the water. Immediately, the clouds came out. And after fifteen minutes of adult swim, the sun wasn’t coming back. In fact, the clouds were rolling in. So, I headed home in time to beat the storm, though it had yet to thunder.

It’s a start, though. I no longer fear ear aches, as a result of swimming (besides, we have tons of hydrogen peroxide, if needed). But no reason to keep wearing that rut down. Time to go swimming, while summer is still here!

origin is coming…

State of Origin, that is. I’ve been reliably informed that Queensland is now going for its 8th win! I say reliably, because I don’t trust my reckoning, even if I google it. I lost track of what number they were at, shortly after leaving Australia. I suppose it would help if I just read my own posts about the serious-as-all-get-out rugby competition between Queensland and New South Wales? It’s probably a good idea, but I doubt I will. When I reread what I’ve written a LONG time ago, it messes with what I might write NOW, off the top of my head.

A couple of days ago, a co-worker was bored, so they demanded to know what my favorite basketball team was. Um, I don’t watch basketball, so no favorite. He tried again… football team! Nope, sorry. I don’t watch football, either (gridiron, that is). I would much rather play a sport than watch it. So, at a momentary stand-still, a few minute later, he asked, “Favorite My Little Pony?!”state_of_origin

After a bit, I told him that I watched rugby sometimes, but apparently rugby doesn’t agree with him. I neglected to tell him that I love to watch the haka at the beginning of games with the New Zealand All-Blacks. I don’t know what he would have thought of that.

Since coming back to the U.S., I actually haven’t looked for a rugby team to follow, because cheering on teams has never been my style. If you don’t really watch sports on tv, then you don’t really have a reason to cheer a team on. I’m more likely to root for (Aussies, don’t be snarky, you know what I mean) a local team. I’ll cheer for Clemson, because that’s where I’m from. I’ll hope the Carolina Panthers defeat the New England Patriots, in the Super Bowl… but I’ll still mostly watch the commercials.

And so, I’ll cheer on the Queensland Maroons, if I can just find somewhere to watch them! Of course, I will also cheer for them because they’re just the best team in State of Origin, anyway. But I know some will disagree with me there. I have an American friend who works in Canberra and has lots of friends in NSW, so of course he’s on their side.

I remember my first Origin game. I was sitting on the arm of the couch, trying to figure out what was going. These amazingly strong AND fast guys were running constantly, making me never want to take my eyes off the television. If I did, I might miss something. That’s another reason I like it, the constant movement, the ongoing game, that only stops for a short break in the middle of the game. I hate games that stop and start, allowing your mind to wander to more interesting things.

When I missed the second Origin game of 2011, I made sure I was in a house full of friends for Game 3. It was a riotous group, with mostly Maroon fans, and a few Blues in the room. I’ve never been one for actually clapping, cheering, and shouting during a game, unless I really understand what’s going on. So, I just sat with my eyes glued to the screen, and my eyes were probably as big as dinner plates, trying to take it all in. It was so exciting! The Maroons were so awesome!

As I write, if I have the dates correct, then my Queenslander friends are just a few hours away from cheering on their team. The drinks will be out, the snacks will disappear, and they’ll be shouting their heads off. And even if I can’t watch with them, I’m cheering for the right side, in my head, from South Carolina. Go Maroon!

 

Related posts:

rugby league…

State of Origin ’11, game 3…

go maroon!

a seabrook sunday…

For the first time ever, on a Seabrook weekend, I didn’t wear my Sunday clothes to breakfast. I know, you’re stunned. Since I don’t like being rushed after I eat, I usually dress up first, and then go to the dining hall. But this year, I had a brand-new dress, bought as part of my birthday present, and I was terrified that I would spill something on it. Yes, pessimism came to the fore, and I went to breakfast in shorts and a t-shirt. But hey, I was in good company.DSC_0483

But the dress survived the trip to chapel, and the sun was out, making for some beautiful photo sessions, afterwards. Last conference, I happened to bring my tripod along for the group picture, but this year, I forgot. So, we made do, like we did a year ago, when it rained, and we took the group pic INSIDE the chapel. One of the guys carried the recycling bin outside, we set several hymn books on top, and I used that to prop my camera on, while setting the timer.DSC_0490

DSC_0493If you see me standing awkwardly in that picture, it’s because I ran to my spot and found myself with a part of a step to stand on, for one foot, and some soft mulch for the other. I was trying to keep my balance, not wanting a colossal fall captured on camera, when the timer went off.5-19 Sunday

DSC_0511After the group shot is over, lots of people run back to their cabins change, but some of us meander back slowly, taking other smaller group pictures, on the way. Halfway to my cabin, we stopped for some, with Court and I goofing off a bit, as she took advantage of the height difference. Then we dragged some of the guys into the fun.DSC_0521

DSC_0524At lunch, Tom passed off his hat to Skip (our fearless leader), who never passes up an opportunity for a good pose. Especially when the goofy pictures always make it into the Sunday evening slideshow. Then the hat got passed around for more photo opportunities. Speaking of the slideshow, I still remember when Bob brought the first digital camera to Seabrook, and we began to make a regular thing of it. Sunday afternoon is the time to hand off the photos to Tom, and we girls make sure that the worst photos on our OWN cameras don’t make it onto his computer. But we have no control over the crazy pictures that come off the other cameras.DSC_0527

Lunch was taco soup, which some of us thought was ALL, and then realized they had the turkey sandwich fixings back in the kitchen, and not on the buffet line. After we ate, I think Dave’s presence was really missed, because not only is he our resident “pyro”, he also usually leads a hike on Sunday afternoon, for those who like walking the Seabrook trails. Instead, and even better, we had a baptism, in the ocean, for one of our dear girls.DSC_0534

DSC_0536Afterwards, I watched some of my friends pick up a dead jellyfish, to look at it closely, and then take it back into the water TWICE, to wash more sand out of it. I think they couldn’t see the guts very well, or something. It was funny to listen to them cheerfully point out “there’s its nose, eyes, and mouth…”. Sillies.DSC_0549

DSC_0551On the way to uploading pictures to Tom’s computer, in the dining hall, I had to show him how to turn the water on, to wash off his sandy feet and shoes. I think they keep adjusting how they use those beach “showers”. But at least it made me feel smart.  : )DSC_0557

DSC_0559When we reached the dining hall for dinner, one of the chefs came out to tell us all about the roast beef, gravy, mixed vegetables, and mashed potatoes we would be having for dinner. Those potatoes are amazing, I’m not sure I want to know what they add to make them taste so good. There are probably lots of calories in the ingredients. We did miss having the famous camp mac’n'cheese, though. They make a triple cheese macaroni and cheese dish that’s to die for, and you’ve never had anything like it, anywhere. Too bad, maybe in November.DSC_0561

DSC_0564The camp provides an assortment of coffee mugs, and when I took notice of Harold’s, I had to get a picture of him with it. Besides, he’s a born model.DSC_0563

DSC_0565Before the evening meeting, Courtney had some fun with Rachel’s (different Rachel, not me) hair. That’s what happens when  you room with a hairdresser, eventually, she will do something with your hair. It’s good fun.DSC_0567

The final meeting of the weekend was excellent, and before it started, we tried to bring the roof down, with the singing. Harold put in our usual ending numbers, with a few extras, so the girls able to hit the high notes were really having to work. I’m always grateful that “Wonderful Grace of Jesus” gives us a momentary breather, in the chorus.DSC_0569

Sunday ended with a hilarious slideshow, complete with random quotes from the weekend. We’re always good for a few of those. After a few snacks (because you know, we’ve barely eaten anything, all weekend), we had a rousing game of Signs, which I think I won. That’s what happens when you play for an hour or more, and you never get called into the middle, right? I was the only one to manage it, this time. Of course, we have almost as many spectators as players, because it’s a hoot to watch the game.DSC_0572

Finally, with the clouds beginning to clear off, we hit the beach and walked down to the point. Several people had their phones out, loading their constellation and star apps, in order to see what constellations we were looking at. Once I spotted Orion, I commented on the fact that it was the only constellation I could see in Australia, that I recognized. Even though he always looked like he was upside down (or something), it was comforting to see something familiar. One of the guys shot down this remark, insisting that no constellations from the Northern Hemisphere were visible in the Southern Hemisphere. He said I must have seen Cygnus.

Well, I insisted that I ought to know what Orion looks like, and his belt is distinctive, but I had no proof. But I have remembered to look it up, at last, and guess what? I was right! Orion is located on the celestial equator and is visible in BOTH hemispheres! So there! Sorry, when you’re in a totally different place, far from all you know, you will latch onto the few things that are familiar. And I didn’t want that taken away from me, even a year after the fact.

Stay with me! I’m including a picture of Monday’s delicious breakfast, because I have so many things to talk about and show from our time spent in Charleston. We’re getting there, slowly but surely!DSC_0574

looking on the funny side…

I like to look for the funny side of everything. Part of it comes from loving to share a good story, and who doesn’t love a funny story? The other comes from having worked alone for a significant portion of five years (except for during the summer), and you have to find your amusement somewhere. To switch up the saying on trees falling in the forest, “If Rachel falls down with a crash, when she’s in a building by herself (and survives), does she still laugh?”. Why, yes, she does.

Some people think I’m overly serious, which means they’re obviously not around me enough to know better. Some people may think I take everything too lightly, which isn’t true at all. I take many things very seriously, but in the right situation, I still want to lighten the atmosphere, and keep everyone from diving too far into the dumps. But I certainly know which situations are too serious for even that, don’t worry.

You’ve all heard it said that, “I know this is terrible, now, but later, we’ll laugh about it”. I will often laugh about it, at the time, but if I don’t, you can guarantee that I will later. If you could hear my friend Imogen and I related our adventure on Magnetic Island, and how everything that could go wrong DID go wrong, you will know that we didn’t enjoy it at the time. Not one bit. However, after we arrived at that restaurant, starving to death, and begged them to feed us… I think we were laughing hysterically, at that point. While we continued to shovel food into our faces. Hey, it happens.

But who could not start to find that story funny, knowing that while we were attempting to snorkel, there was a goanna (type of monitor lizard) or possum or some other critter stealing food out of our backpacks? Knowing that when we were kayaking at sunset, I was wailing about how she could always see the turtles, but I swear to you, the turtles dived under the water when I looked in their direction. Stupid turtles. Or our kayaking instructor offering us a glass of sparkling grape juice, but when I asked what it was, he said it was wine. I was so tired, I thought he was being serious, unable to recognize the sarcasm. So, I told him I didn’t want any, of course.

More recently, I had a cold, and even when I was blowing half my body weight out of my nose (or least, that’s what it felt like), I was able to notice the hilarious parts of it. Mainly, I had almost lost my voice, which made me sound like a high-pitched frog. Of course, historically (or hysterically), I don’t usually stop talking when I lose my voice. Because my croaking always makes people laugh… or their reactions to it makes ME laugh. Once upon a time, I lost my voice after yelling my head off on some roller coasters, at Cedar Point. I kept our van-load of kids in stitches, for the rest of the trip. I’ll admit, I did sound like some boys do when their voices are changing.

Not everyone else agrees with this idea, of finding the side-effects of my illness to be entertaining. One grad student had a cold at the same time as I did, and when I commented on the hilarity of it, his reaction was “being sick is ENTERTAINING?!?”. I’m afraid he thought I was nuts, or that my sense of humor is, well… sick. Oh, well.

I have mentioned before that I am not a klutz, and it’s true! But I have a bad habit of sharing stories about clumsy incidents, and sharing them all at once, so it gives the impression that I really AM a klutz. I tend to fall, occasionally, not because I’m clumsy, but because my ankles like to “turn”. I try very hard to be careful on stairs… and then, I’ll turn my ankle (painfully, I might add), and take a big spill.

The last time I did that, I did some some serious damage to my knees, falling down my front steps. But what I thought was funny was that while everyone in my neighborhood usually knew what I was up to (fishbowl living, you know), nobody saw me fall. Amazing.

And when I got in a fender-bender with a large truck, there was nothing funny about being rammed from behind, while at a complete stop. There was nothing entertaining about worrying that my summer staff girls might have been injured, seriously, if the spare tire on the back of my CRV hadn’t prevented it. Most of us were in complete shock, in tears, and suffered from stiff muscles (from jerking against our seat belts, in the collision) for a few days, afterwards.

It was only some time later that I realized that having bumped my boss’s car, in the process, it meant that I would never live it down. Oh, don’t worry, our insurance paid for everything, and now, you’d barely know anything ever happened to my car. But having everyone come out of it unscathed meant that we could joke, with impunity, about how I was the one that dared dent his car. The nerve of me.  : )

But remember, while I will laugh at myself, I will make certain that everyone is alright, before I laugh at someone else almost injuring themselves. One time, my 2nd-in-command housekeeper, a good friend of mine, accidentally zapped herself with a power outlet. I don’t know how it happened, because she wasn’t being careless. But the shock of it really did set her back for a while, and I would never think that such a thing was funny. Especially knowing that her boyfriend might be really upset with me for allowing her to get hurt. Now, she laughed about it later, but I would still make sure my girls were cautious with pulling plugs from outlets, for some time afterwards.

Again, please don’t think I’m unfeeling or incapable of seeing someone else’s pain. That’s why if I’m laughing, usually it means something happened to me, and it struck me as hilarious. If something happens to someone else, I will be much more concerned about the other’s well-being. If you fall, or do something where you COULD have hurt yourself, I will be worried for you, and never a laugh will you hear. I mean that. I’m not a “laugh first, check-to-see-if-you’re-ok second” type of person.

When I started this post, I think I had some more funny tales to tell… but now I’ve forgotten them. Remember, there’s almost always a funny side, to every situation, you just have to look for it.  And maybe having a good laugh will make your day just a little bit brighter.

come on, make that pav!

The Australian pavlova… the one dessert I never got enough of, while overseas, and never had a lesson in, until the very end of my time there. As a result, when I try to make it here in the U.S., I start consulting multiple recipes and quizzing all my friends for their opinions on how to make it. Remember, Aussies have slightly different ingredients AND measurements than Americans, so nothing I do here will be exactly like we did there.DSC_1005

DSC_0005My impression, after multiple discussions with friends, is that every Aussie has their own perfect way of making one… or they admit defeat, and don’t make it at all. Maybe it always falls flat (though I don’t even know how that works, yet), or maybe they’re half American, so they were raised on a different combination of desserts. But another friend insists that there is no wrong way to make a pav. So, obviously, it takes all types to make a world. Even in Oz.DSC_0009

For my birthday, I decided it was time to make another attempt at pavlova. Not that anything was wrong with the last one, except technically, it wasn’t pavlova. They do say that it has to have cornstarch (cornflour, if you’re an Aussie) in it, to make it a pav. But as I’ve done more reading on the subject of the ins and outs of pavlovas, maybe it really was one, after all. The difference between a meringue and a pavlova is supposed to be that a pav is hard and crunchy on the outside and marshmallow-y soft on the inside, while meringue is hard throughout. So, last time, I thought I did, and then I thought I didn’t… and now I think I did make one, after all.  : )DSC_0013

DSC_0015If you are already looking for the recipe, I haven’t written it yet, so I think I’ll include it at the very end. So, if that’s all you want, scroll straight to the bottom of this page. You see, as I said, I was working from two recipes, tons of online advice, suggestions from my mom, and a little intuition thrown in. In addition, I had to translate the temperatures and measurements, too.DSC_0017

My original recipe, which my friend Imogen sent home with me, was printed off of taste.com.au, and is listed as a “Traditional Pavlova Recipe”. It doesn’t call for cornflour. For my second recipe, she e-mailed me the link to aussie.info.com. I did lots of flipping back and forth from one to the other, trying to decide what to do.DSC_0019

One problem is that Aussies use caster sugar (Americans don’t have this, except perhaps in a specialty store), which seems to be like granulated sugar that’s been blended slightly finer, but not as fine as icing sugar. In the end, we picked up a box of 4x confectioner’s sugar, which is probably too fine, but who cares? It’ll blend nicely into the egg whites, and it’s sugar. Adapt to the ingredients you have, especially if you’re too lazy to blend the sugar in the food processor.DSC_0021

When I began to dig out the ingredients, I practically had to climb into the cupboard, trying to find the cream of tartar, which was hiding in a small container,behind everything else. One recipe calls for it, and the other does not. One recipe explains that cream of tartar helps increase the volume of the egg whites, and gives the pavlova a crunchier crust. So, I thought, it’ll probably help, so I included it.DSC_0022

DSC_0023Remembering that I hadn’t messed it up the first time, so I couldn’t really ruin it this time, unless I did something completely ridiculous, I began my pavlova. I’ve never had any trouble with separating egg whites from egg yolks, so I quickly did that, and threw them in the mixing bowl. By the way, one recipe called for 6 egg whites, the other for 4-6. I think the 4-6 one was tailored more towards 4, so the measurements were a bit different. I went with six, and decided I’d swing with it. One recipe called for a pinch of salt, the other for a pinch of cream of tartar, so I used both.DSC_0025

DSC_0030My first recipe has my friend’s handwritten note that “Typically, in most Aussie pavs, you would use 1/4 cup caster sugar for every egg white – beat until no longer grainy”. So, it’s likely that their caster sugar is grainier than my powdered sugar, and you have to stir longer. And those cups mentioned are in Aussie measures, so I figured my 1 1/2 cups of sugar would work nicely with my 6 eggs. No, wait, one recipe called for 8 ounces of it… so I may have gone with that. Either works. I gradually added the sugar, vanilla, and white vinegar, though I think I saved the vanilla for the very end. It doesn’t really seem like vinegar and vanilla would go together.DSC_0048

DSC_0049Recipe #2 says to lightly fold in the cornstarch. This is where I needed a lesson on folding, from my mom, because I’ve rarely done any recipe that calls for it. The idea of gently stirring, in order to keep it from deflating, strikes me as very odd, but then, I’m using to stirring cookie dough. So, very carefully, I folded in the cornstarch, wondering what would happen if I stirred it too hard. Would it just evaporate before my eyes? That must be what my friend meant about it “falling”.DSC_0055

Also, in Australia, with no everyone having air-conditioning or insulation in their homes, I’m guessing that some of the issues may come with the fluctuation of temperatures inside the house. Even when our AC isn’t running, the house takes a while to change temp, so there isn’t usually any trouble with cooking projects reacting to heat and humidity.DSC_0056

DSC_0059Once the egg whites were ready, I put parchment paper on my cookie sheet, so that I could easily move it to a decorative plate, later. The first time, I didn’t do very well at getting the mixture in a circle, and hollowing it out to make room for the whipped cream. Of course, that time, I overwhipped the cream, so there wasn’t as much of it. But this time, I kept my circle smaller and piled it higher, in order to make a deeper hollow inside. And wished I knew, in detail (with pics), how my friends do it, and what it looks like when they’re making it.  : )  Recipe #1 also calls for making “furrows” up the sides. I’m still working on that part.DSC_0064

After much debate over the oven temperatures and timing, we put it into our convection oven. If you have a gas oven, the recipes call for starting with 400°F, and then dropping it to 250°F after ten minutes, and then baking for an hour. I see now that my first recipe calls for even lower temps. But if you have an electric oven, you start it at 250°F and bake for 1.5 hours. Final notation says that if you have a fan-forced oven (convection), then you “adjust accordingly”. Great, so we make it up as we go along. Eventually, we settled on preheating to 250°F, then dropping it to 235°, and baked it for an hour.DSC_0065

DSC_0066Though it was completely done, the outside of the pavlova wasn’t as crispy as it should’ve been, and the inside a bit soft, so I think I’ll bake it longer, next time. My brother has volunteered to eat any more than I want to make, for practice.  : )DSC_0069

When it’s baked, you turn off the oven, leave the oven partially ajar, and let the pav cool in the oven. I believe this is because if it gets cool TOO suddenly, it will fall. So, another case of possible “falling” that I have yet to experience, so I’m not quite sure what it would look like, if it did.DSC_0076

After the pav was almost cool, I brought it out of the oven to finish cooling, transferred it to a pretty plate, and cut off the excess parchment paper. It moved very easily, with the paper under it. Then, I prepared to make the whipped cream. The recipe calls for 300 mLs of thickened cream, so I used a pint of heavy whipping cream (which is ~470 mLs, I think). This time, I measured it out, but next time, I’ll just use the whole container, because you can’t have too much whipped cream. Also, I need to mix it slightly less, so it will be a little softer.DSC_0080

Recipe #2 doesn’t have any description of how to make the whipped cream, so I ran with what recipe #1 said. I beat the cream, 1 tbsp of confectioner’s sugar, and 1 tsp of vanilla together. Then, I carefully filled my pavlova, spread it evenly, and decorated it with blueberries and strawberries. We forgot to get a kiwi, or we would have added that, too. And I don’t know if you can even get passionfruit, here in the U.S. (it would probably cost a LOT), so that couldn’t be included. But I’ve seen pictures of pavs with pomegranate seeds on top, too. Raspberries would probably be marvelous, as well.DSC_0088

In the end, the pavlova looked beautiful. So, on to the taste test. When I cut the first slice, I found that the outer crust was softer than last time, and gave no resistance to the spatula. It didn’t hold together very well on the plate, either, so I had trouble getting any photos that didn’t look like a pile of white fluff. My family were all surprised at how light it is, like dining on air, and eating more than one piece didn’t feel like overeating. But despite any criticism that I make of it, with the intention of improving the next one, I think it was delicious, too.DSC_0089

I love how the sweetness of the pavlova, which really is almost the consistency of a marshmallow on the inside, contrasts with the whipped cream. You don’t have to put sugar in the whipped cream, but if you do, there’s so very little, that you just taste creamy wonderfulness in it. And the fruit gives it a punch of flavor, unlike the sweetness and cream of the rest. And getting the crunchiness into the outside of the pav is my goal for next time.DSC_0091

But again, six of us polished off the whole thing in a matter of minutes. And as we joked, if you’ve met my brother, he doesn’t eat four slices of any dessert, just to be polite. And though it was suggested that I could make lemon meringue or key lime pie next, I’m afraid I shot down that idea, because I’ve never liked either desserts, particularly. Oh, I try them now and then, but I’m not a big fan of lemon or lime in desserts, I’m not exactly sure why.DSC_0092

So, thanks for staying with me for this whole extended description of my latest baking expedition. This is what my compilation pavlova recipe would end up looking like, though you can feel free to vary it as much as you like. Remember, this is an Aussie traditional dessert, only slightly revamped for Americans.  : )DSC_0093

~

Rachel’s Aussie-American Pavlova

6 egg whites

8oz confectioner’s sugar, 4x (or caster sugar)

1 pinch cream of tartar

1 pinch salt

1 tsp vanilla

2 tsp cornstarch

1 tsp white vinegar

~

Using an electric mixer, beat egg whites until it forms stiff peaks. Gradually add sugar, beat until sugar is no longer grainy. Add salt, cream of tartar, vinegar, and vanilla, one at a time. Lightly fold in cornstarch.

Pile mixture into a circular shape, on parchment paper, on a cooking sheet. Build up the sides into walls, with a lower, “hollow” center. Make furrows up the sides, if you like. Bake until crunchy on the outside.

Electric oven: Bake at 250°F, for 1.5 hours

Gas oven: Start at 400°F, bake 10 minutes, then lower to 250°, bake for 1 more hour.

Convection: Bake at 235°F for 1 hour, 15 minutes (varies).

Let pavlova cool in the oven, with the door ajar. When cool, fill with whipped cream and decorate with fruit.

~

Whipped Cream

1 pint heavy whipping cream

1 tbsp confectioner’s sugar (optional)

1 tsp vanilla

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Beat cream, sugar, & vanilla until soft peaks form.

~

I hope you’ve enjoyed going on this pavlova journey with me. My thanks to all the friends that have given me recipes and made suggestions on how to achieve the perfect pavlova. All measurements and temperatures are American, so be careful, if you live anywhere else.  : )  I hope more of my American friends will try out this recipe, and learn to love it as much as I do!DSC_0098

a vegemite kick…

I’ve been eating my Vegemite, a bit at a time… but last week, I dug it out and I’ve been devouring it. Maybe it didn’t help that when I came down with my cold, I wasn’t able to tell myself to eat quite so healthily as I usually do. Breakfast is not usually homemade toast and bagels, I try and cut back on the carbs. But butter and Vegemite have just been calling my name.DSC_0890

And when the new batch of freshly made, still warm, homemade bread appeared on the counter, I knew what I was having for dinner. Occasionally, I put on too much Vegemite, and I get quite a kick to my meal. But the more often I eat it, the stronger I can handle it. And it’s so yummy.. No one else in this house ever had a reason to develop a taste for it, though, so I don’t have to share. Ha HA. You could say my time in Australia was well-spent.DSC_0891

This morning, my brother walked by and saw what I was eating, and asked if it was cinnamon on my bread. I should have made him try it, just to see his reaction to the unexpected. Oh, don’t worry, I have had them try it before, but not recently. But soon, I’ll go back to a bit less bread, and a bit less Vegemite. But Australia, it makes me think of you.

Now, how about some Russian Caravan tea to go with it? So long, I have tea to brew.

what isn’t here & why they were there…

I was doing it again. I only had one or two items to pick up at Ingles, and since I was in a not-so-familiar grocery store, I began to wander. Sure enough, I ended up in the ethnic food section, searching for familiarity. You may find that odd, since my year overseas was spent in Australia. But consider, I found jars of buttered chicken in the Indian section and sweet chili sauce in the Thai section. How many times did I buy coconut milk, pappadums, and other ingredients for dinner?

Admittedly, there’s a tiny confused section of my brain which expects that if I stare at the shelves long enough, a shelf will appear that’s labeled “Esther, Imogen, Amy, and Claire all cooked these.”. Of course, it’ll come with a list of recipes. I’ll finally figure out why I liked Aussie barbecue sauce when I was there, but hate the American kind. Maybe it’s just because I like it on pizza. Of course, when I had it on homemade pizza, I would combine it with tomato sauce (NOT ketchup), and then add all my own meaty toppings. But NOT capsicums (peppers), either fresh or the ones preserved in olive oil. I did try them, once or twice, and just can’t handle them.

As I think over this grocery store issue of mine, I am reminded that as of April 23, I will have been back in the US for one year, and May 3 will be the two year anniversary for when I arrived in Australia. Lots of anniversaries are packed into April and May, for both Australia and my blog. It has really been that long since I returned to American soil, just as it’s really been THAT long since I went to AUS. Did it go by fast? I’m no longer sure.

Because I’ve had this post on my mind, I drove by McDonald’s, today, and I was thinking that it will never be Maccas to me. The Maccas of Australia was one place I would go in order to read a book, drink a mocha, and veg out while reading a book. Usually while munching on a scone or some other form of dessert. I love coffee shops over here, too, but they’re just not the same. I’m pretty sure ours have a lot more sugar, but since I never worked in a coffee shop overseas, I really don’t know what makes the difference.

Hearing from an Aussie friend of mine reminded me of how much I miss our outings to Bogey’s, and left me with a craving for potato wedges with sour cream and sweet chilli sauce. And a mocha, with an Aussie marshmallow on the side. A craving that can’t be satisfied, because even in Australia, I never had potato wedges that were as good as those served at Bogey’s in Emerald. Sure, maybe I’ll be able to find some over here, eventually, and buy myself sweet chili sauce from the Thai food section… but it still isn’t the same.

I haven’t only been thinking about food. Honest. But if you’ve been reading my blog lately, I’ve been thinking about the idea of friendship and how we go about making friends, especially when we’re outside of our comfort zone. It makes you think about the friendships that you had to work for and fight for, as well as the ones you fell into by accident, which seemed to be tailored just for you.

Some might say that it was a coincidence that I met the group of friends that I did, while in Australia. But was it really? You could say that I had two small groups of friends, from two different churches, that occasionally combined into a big group. We mixed and moved around, if you will. From the very start, I was drawn into their circles and welcomed, having common ground to stand on. As I recall, only one of them moved away, while I was still living there, because he wanted to go to Bible school.

And then, during this last year, they began to scatter. A large family of my friends moved to Tasmania. Another friend moved to Brisbane (capital of Queensland). One got married and moved to Sydney. I’m not sure when it happened, but another somehow got herself to Victoria (another Aussie state). And yet another is getting ready to move back to the “big smoke”… which after some digging, I found also referred to Brisbane.

I believe that it was part of the Lord’s plan that I go to Australia and meet these amazing people, and that He had the right ones waiting for me in Emerald. I do not think it was just a coincidence that they were all in Emerald, for that time. Their friendships have enriched my life and changed me, and I will always be thankful for them. And now that some of them have moved on (geographically), I will have a lot more places to travel, when I get back Down Under, eventually!

Maybe I should be talking more about my last year in the U.S., now that I’m remembering the one year anniversary since I returned. But I’ll be here for a long while yet, and you’ve been listening to me yak about America for a year now, so I don’t think I need to go over it. Maybe sometime this summer, I’ll have more to say about this past year in America, and its effect on me. But until I figure it out for myself, I don’t have anything to tell you.

To all my friends and readers, thank you again for sticking with me, no matter what country I happen to be in. I plan to keep writing for a long time, so I’ll keep searching for the little stories that make up the great big story which is my sometimes-interesting life. Have a wonderful week!

the joys of a good song…

I just found out that Emmy Rossum has a new CD out. If you remember, she played Christine Daaé in the movie version of The Phantom of the Opera, so she can definitely sing. Of course, with my goals for the year including noEmmy-Rossum-album-cover music or book purchases, that meant I couldn’t immediately download it. Blast. So, I went back to what I did when I was in Australia… listening to the songs on YouTube. That website is a wonderful thing for those who want good music, but are trying to be frugal.

Rossum’s Sentimental Journey seems to be a collection of oldies stretching from the 1920′s to the 1960′s, and though I haven’t even finished listening to all of them, it’s already a great listen. If you like to listen to real “oldies”, sung by an amazing “new” vocalist, this album is probably for you.

It’s interesting, finding some great new music at the same time that I’m getting back into watching The Voice Australia, which has just begun its second season. For those of you who love America’s The Voice, I’m sorry, but I’ve never been a fan. Not because of how they find the singers, I think being judged on your voice, solely, is a fantastic way of doing things. But tumblr_mhbo2cwVwR1qzoaqio1_1280while I have a liking for Blake Shelton, as a person and because he’s a country singer, the few times I’ve watched our version of The Voice, I get really annoyed with the judges.

Don’t get me wrong, they can all sing, especially Christina Aguilera, but I don’t find them very likeable, as a group, and I find CeeLo to be a bit of a perv. Maybe it’s because they all come across as being full of themselves. I will admit to never watching beyond the Blind Auditions, so maybe things improve.

But if you’ve never gone looking for The Voice Australia, online, then you don’t know what you’re missing. It was a bit disappointing when Keith Urban left the show, but thus far, Ricky Martin is doing a brilliant job of replacing him. Keith is probably a bit wasted on American Idol, amidst the crazy panel of judges, because he’s a REALLY good coach. But I hear he has some of the best constructive criticism on their panel, without attempting to steal the spotlight from the rest of the judges.

I don’t know if most Americans would be aware that Joel Madden is an amazing coach and musician, because aside from Good Charlotte, he’s a bit more famous for marrying Nicole Richie. Speaking of which, last season, Joel sang a duet with his father-in-law, Lionel Richie, and if you missed it, I just plain feel sorry for you.

Seal, who coached Karise Eden (audition, finale) to the winning spot, is 558889_452782128135558_147501053_nalso a fantastic coach. He has a way with words that makes Joel Madden refer to him as “the guru” and a “master of the Matrix”.

And until I started watching this show, I had never heard of Delta Goodrem, who is one of Australia’s biggest stars. For those of us who are accustomed to hearing Andrea Bocelli or Josh Groban sing “The Prayer” with Celine Dion, Delta has sung it with both of them, on international tours. And on top of her amazing skills as a coach and performer, she’s just plain nice! She may look slightly like Aguilera, because she’s blonde, but the two are nothing alike. Delta Goodrem is the type of person you want for your best friend, while Christina Aguilera is the type you want to keep away from dating your younger brothers (even if she CAN sing).

My family keeps wondering what I’m laughing at, when I’m watching The Voice Australia, because it sounds like I’m watching a funny movie or a Castle episode. But no, it’s because the judges can be so hilarious! They tease each other like a family, not with subtle/painful digs that make you think they’re having cat fights behind the scenes. They genuinely enjoy each other and are searching for performers that they can work with, in order to give back to the next generation.

And the talent? If you’ve never heard of Rachael Leahcar, Karise Eden, Darren Percival, Lakyn Heperi, and the rest, you need to look them up. Already, Season 2‘s lineup is stacking up to outmatch them, though it’s hard to believe. Look up The Voice Australia: Season 2 on YouTube, and watch Harrison Craig, Chris Sheehy, Kaity Dunstan, and Luke Kennedy. Phenomenal.

I think every person that likes to sing will watch a show like this, or American Idol and The X Factor, and wonder if they could do that. Could they get up on stage and become the next Kelly Clarkson or Susan Boyle? Of course, if you think you have a decent voice, you also wonder if you’d be slammedDelta Goodrem by Simon Cowell, if you got up there (the less humble “singers”, for some reason, never expect this). But after watching The Voice Australia, and seeing how hard these fledgling musicians have worked in order to get where they are, I can see that you need to want music more than anything, to put it all on the line, like they do. Plenty of people will go up and make idiots of themselves, because their families mistakenly think they can sing, but the true singers and performers will never give up until they succeed.

So, while I enjoyed singing my head off while cleaning the shower (no, I don’t sing when I’m IN the shower), I know that even if my voice was good enough for the stage, I wouldn’t go on those shows. I wouldn’t like being in the public eye, I don’t like following directions when it comes to my voice (hence, I avoided ever taking any chorus classes in school), and I wouldn’t like having to do gigs all over the place. These singers thrive on it! I would shrivel up. I’m a writer who likes to sing, not a singer that likes to write.

But while I don’t have anymore “lullaby the baby” posts for you (no bubs to sing to, lately), I can still belt out the Broadway, with or without my headphones on. Maybe it’s because cleaning can be dull, if you don’t try to keep things entertaining. I spent five years of my life, cleaning the campgrounds from top to bottom, and I sang my heart out, the whole way. I still wonder if the walls soak it up, to spill out in some future era.

In case you were wondering, my Broadway cleaning songs come from some of my favorite musicals (the stage musicals, NOT the movies!), from Beauty & the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Les Miserables, Wicked, and Jane Eyre, to The Music Man, Oliver!, Cats, JaneeyrecoverSouth Pacific, and My Fair Lady. I know some of you, who haven’t heard me talk about musicals before, are already preparing to argue with me that The Little Mermaid and Jane Eyre are movies, not musicals. Well, you would be wrong, and I wish I could have seen them on the stage. Want to know where Sierra Boggess got her Broadway start, before progressing to Love Never Dies (the nightmare Phantom sequel)? The answer is The Little Mermaid: The Musical. And, of course, Marla Schaffel and James Barbour were beyond fantastic in Jane Eyre: The Musical.

So, I had to get some music ramblings out of my system, so forgive me if I jumped all over the place. And now, I’m looking forward to the Blind Auditions on The Voice Australia, this week. Especially because an acquaintance from Emerald, QLD, will be performing. And if any of my Aussie friends tell me the results, beforehand, I will be VERY upset with them!  : )

two whole years…

Yes, you heard that right. It’s been two entire years.

In the two years since I started this blog, I’ve been to Australia and back again. I went there all by myself, the first time I’ve ever flown halfway around the world on my own (I’ve flown halfway around the world with my dad and cousins, before). I’ve driven to Minnesota and back, and some of you know how that went. And now I’m back in my hometown of Clemson, for the time being.

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April ’11, before I left for AUS

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April ’11, before I left for AUS

My first few blog posts were about the joys and trials of packing for moving to the other side of the planet. I had just bought a new laptop computer, in order to keep in contact with my family more easily, to update my blog, and to Skype anyone who wanted to talk with me. It is still my go-to “vehicle” for all my blogging and communication needs. Even the headphones, which used to be for Skype, are used to block out the background noise of the household, and allow me to write.

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One of my first pics in Australia

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Yeppoon, QLD, Australia

I had just bought a new camera, a Nikon D3100, which allowed me to take beautiful photos of Australia, as well as the occasional video. With it, I was able to visually show everyone what I was seeing, while I did my best to describe it in words. In those two years, using my camera has become much more natural than it ever had before, and I’ve been using cameras since I became a teenager. I have always said that I like to take pictures, but only now do I consider myself a photographer. My DSLR taught me how to do more than just point-and-shoot… though I still love my Canon PowerShot for certain things.

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June ’11, one month after arriving in AUS

Also new to me was my Kindle, one of the older black-and-white versions, which allowed me to take a large number of books with me. It was an excellent supplement to my local library visits, and as much as I love real books, I like having the e-books handy, as well. I was NOT thrilled that it go broken, on the return trip to the U.S., but at least that allowed me to upgrade to a Kindle Fire.

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My bub, 11 mths old, June ’11

When I returned from Australia, I left behind all the friends and loved ones that I had made in the previous year. How had the year gone by so quickly? How had these friendships become so strong? The Lord truly blessed me with the friendships I made, and now, when I eventually return to visit all of them, I’ll be putting in some serious travel. Because instead of staying in Emerald, many of them have moved away! My friends are scattered from Queensland to Tasmania, and I have to see them all again, someday. I look forward to that trip.

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April ’12, right before leaving AUS

During my time back in the United States, I had to learn how to blog again. I didn’t really need to reinvent my blog, so much as reinvent how I looked at the everyday things, in my home country and my hometown. You can become blind to the things that surround you, the things that you take for granted. Now, I wanted to share the adventure of home with my friends in Australia, as well as remembering that life is interesting, you just have to know where to look.

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April ’12, right before leaving AUS. My bub’s almost 2 years old.

I have become fascinated by taking photos of everything from buildings to flowers. I have explored the town of Clemson and the Clemson University campus, and I’m still not finished yet. I look closely at the budding flowers and look straight up at the tops of the trees, looking for the interesting shapes of the branches. I want to see what will look good in black and white, and what only needs a touch of color to come to life in a photo.

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Botanical Gardens, Clemson, SC May ’12

Just thinking about my writing, photography, and life experiences, I’ve come a long way in two years. But if you’d told me back in the summer of 2012 that I would end up working on Clemson’s campus and actually enjoy being around the students, I would have thought you were on something. College students have always intimidated me, but I’ve come to enjoy them (ok, some of them), and actually like the campus. And when you take the time to get to know a place, looking through a camera lens, you’ll find you like it even better.

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Riggs Hall, Clemson University March ’13

Some of you have stood by as I tried to straighten out how to write about my work on campus and my life here in Clemson. Thanks for putting up with me, because I think I’m back on track. Again, the search for the interesting, the fascinating, and the adventures will continue. And when you’re looking for something, you often find it.

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GWH, March ’13

Yes, this blog and I have come a long way. Here’s to many more years of writing and photography, with a few road (and plane and cruise) trips scattered in between!

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Mom and I
Easter Sunday, March 31, 2013

P.S. I just realized that this is my 444th blog post! So, I’ve averaged 222 posts a year, though I know I blogged more when I was in Australia.

international festivities at clemson…

A year ago, if I had walked onto Bowman Field during the International Festival, I wouldn’t have known a single person there. Of course, a year ago, no one would have told me about it, and even if they had, I’d have been too chicken to go amongst all the college students, by myself. And probably, some smart aleck is going to tell me that this discussion is moot, because one year ago, I was still in Australia. Let’s not be picky, whoever you are. But since you mentioned it, there wasn’t an Aussie table at this festival, so I didn’t get any pavlova. Le sigh.DSC_0147

DSC_0148But this year has been different. I know quite a number of Clemson grad students who are from a range of countries, and one of them was nice enough to tell me about this festival, and suggest that I come. After that, several other students told me about it, and I figured it was a good weekend to attend two festivals, one in Pendleton (Spring Jubilee), and one in Clemson. And it was a gorgeous weekend for both!DSC_0149

When I first arrived, I did quite a bit of wandering, checking to see what countries were represented, but not really sure what I should try. Eventually, my problem was solved when I started running into people that I knew. After asking for a recommendation, my first friend suggested that I try something that he made, called dhal vadai. Yes, I made sure I took pictures of the descriptions, as well as the foods, because you can be sure that I would never remember their names, later.DSC_0111

DSC_0110After Duminda promised me it wasn’t spicy (I still looked at him askance, because my siblings and I don’t agree on what counts as “spicy”), I tried one. And I’ve been looking up all these foods on Wikipedia (just so you know), to make sure I don’t say anything COMPLETELY ridiculous about them. This one was savory and shaped like a fritter, and really good. If the paper hadn’t listed lentils as an ingredient, I would have guessed it had corn in it. And he didn’t lead me on, it wasn’t overly spicy, so I survived (don’t laugh, ask me some other time about how Indonesian spices and I got along, many years ago).DSC_0113

DSC_0114I did stop to look at the Libya booth, but didn’t see my acquaintance from there, so I kept wandering. And found several people I knew at the Nepalese booth. Naresh promptly asked me if I wanted to try something with peppers in it, and I demurred, so he suggested that I try a samosa dumpling, and then for dessert, lal mohan.DSC_0118

DSC_0115While I was eating the dumpling, I talked to another friend and tried to make small talk with her toddler, but he just frowned at me. Too bad we didn’t have more time, toddlers and I usually get along really well. I think it was past his naptime. I wish I had taken a picture, though, he was too cute.

I told Sabina that the samosa tasted a bit like chick peas, but I hadn’t recollected that the sign didn’t have chick peas (garbanzo beans) listed on it. It had a flavor like the white chili my family makes, which has cumin in it. I should’ve asked if they put any in it. But maybe the cilantro combined with the peanuts tricked me into thinking there were chick peas in it, because it did have a bit of crunch to it, and a great flavor.DSC_0116

DSC_0117The lal mohan looked a bit like a doughnut hole, and IS made of a deep fried dough (different type of dough, or so I’ve read), and soaked in a sugary syrup. It might have had cardamom in the syrup, as I think it had some spice to it. I love cardamom in my tea and fruitcake, so this is a good spice for me.  : )  It was VERY sweet, but a nice contrast after the dumpling.DSC_0119

DSC_0120There was a mile-long line for the kabobs at the Turkish tent, and though I would eventually come back to the dessert, for the time being, I kept going. I found someone else I knew at the next table, where they offered me a beef burek. This was a meat-filled pastry, and tasted wonderful. I should’ve gone back for another. But when I remembered to take a picture of the label, one of the guys commented on how I should have pictures of people, and not just the food. I asked if he wanted me to take one of them, and he backpedaled.DSC_0121

But as I walked away, I took one anyway. I’m just not very good at making people pose for pictures, especially if I don’t know them very well. I think he saw me do it, though his buddies didn’t notice. I think it came out well, because this booth didn’t have a tent over it. The rest of the tents didn’t let in a lot of light, so you couldn’t really see anyone at work over the food or their pots and grills. Wonderful sunshine-y day, great for photos… have I mentioned that yet?DSC_0122

Oh, I couldn’t figure out which country this booth was for, because they didn’t have a sign. Somebody suggested it might be Bosnia, but I wasn’t sure. But you know what? Photos are wonderful things. While going through them, I discovered that their table had a flag on the front of it (two pictures above this). Just have to match the flag, and that would make this the table representing Bosnia and Herzegovina.

This was a day for figuring out where several other acquaintances of mine were from, for the first time. Some of them were surprised to find I didn’t know they were from Sri Lanka or Nepal. But even if I know most of their names, I still don’t immediately ask for their country of origin. That would be nosy and/or unnecessary. They might as well ask me the same question, and then I can tell them my cousin’s rigmarole about a German pirate and an Irish chick. Or was it an Irish pirate and a German chick? I’ll have to ask him.DSC_0124

DSC_0123Back to the Turkish tent, I was confronted by four or five dessert choices, and had no idea what to choose. I didn’t think I needed excessive amounts of dessert, so I just picked one. So, I received a small plate of semolina pudding. Now, while it resembled apple sauce (though it was too thick for that), and the coloring of it looked like it could be just solid brown sugar, it wasn’t like either of those.DSC_0125

DSC_0126Semolina is a wheat byproduct, from milling durum wheat, which has a texture similar to American grits. I can attest to that, because I had expected something softer, but semolina gives you more to chew on (as does grits). In a good way, before any of you remember my opinion on grits.  : )  This was very sweet and rich… and I was stuffed, when I had finished it. As much as I would have loved to try some more food, I didn’t have any room left, so I didn’t end up using all my tickets.DSC_0127

DSC_0128At this point, some of the dancing began. Some of my acquaintances among the grad students are from Nepal, so they were all front and center to watch their friends do a Nepalese dance. I missed the introduction to this one, so I can’t be more specific than that. It just looked like a lot of fun, and both the dancers and the viewers were really enjoying themselves.DSC_0129

DSC_0130DSC_0131By the way, I really did try to cut back on the dancing photos, but I liked so many of them! They were having such fun, and despite that pole being in my way, I think a lot of them turned out well. Such a sunny day meant I could take dancing photos with no blur! Hooray!DSC_0132

DSC_0133DSC_0134When the first dances were done, I went a-wandering for a while, and checked out the flags that were planted all along the side of Bowman Field. I did go even further than that, going into the Carillon Garden, but those pictures can wait for another time.DSC_0141

DSC_0142DSC_0144While waiting for the next group of drummers and dancers, I spotted a little girl happily banging away on a drum that was as big as she was. She was just precious, and really enjoying herself.DSC_0167

DSC_0169When the African Dance and Drum Troupe (I can’t remember the correct name of the group, sorry!) began to play, a little blonde boy (look for him in the green shirt, overalls, and bucket hat) kept running up to examine the drums… and then he would get intimidated by all the close-range drumming, and run back to his parents. But later, when audience participation was requested, and everyone began to clap, he joined in, and did a great job of it.DSC_0170

DSC_0172DSC_0173The drumming went on for quite a time before the dancers joined in, and then they really got things moving. I saw any number of people in the audience, from all different countries, that couldn’t stand still, because of the music. These all seemed to be countries where lively cultural dances seem to be the norm. I wouldn’t call American dancing particularly cultural, you know. And I’m mostly Pennsylvania Dutch, so I don’t think we have much of a rhythm gene.  : )DSC_0178

DSC_0175DSC_0176But before long, one of the audience members couldn’t bear to sit out the dancing, any longer, and joined in with gusto! I’m not sure exactly where he’s from, nor do I know who he is… but I know who he was sitting with and talking to, so I’m going to find out. This gentleman brought the house down, and it was a joy to watch.DSC_0180

DSC_0181And boy, did those drummers enjoy having another dancer up there. The girls were out in the audience, trying to search out volunteers. They even tried to drag one of the grad students up there, but he wasn’t having any of it.  : )   They found some others, before long, though. Until then, they joined in with the gentleman dancer, and had a high old time of it.DSC_0182

DSC_0183After the dancing was over for a while, some more people went up to try out the drums, some of whom I know. It was a beautiful day and everyone was having a great time. There were a few other small dances, with music from other countries, but I didn’t take any more pictures of them.DSC_0185

DSC_0186DSC_0187For a multicultural festival, this was a fun one, even if I didn’t have a group of friends to wander around with, this time. The last one I attended was in Australia, so I’ll try not to think about it, or I’ll get homesick. But there is something to be said for having some acquaintances on campus, to make you feel like you belong (somewhat). I suppose it’s another step towards getting to know the Clemson campus better than I ever did when I was growing up around here.DSC_0189

DSC_0191I keep finding the new (to me) and interesting side of things at Clemson, and sometimes, others help me to see it. So, I’m glad someone told me about it, and that I got to attend Clemson’s International Festival!DSC_0194

DSC_0195P.S. If any international blog readers or Clemson students notice anything incorrect that I’ve said about the dancing, the people, or the food, please feel free to correct me! I don’t want to leave any really obvious inaccuracies on here, you know.  : )DSC_0211