Anndi's Luggage: Tails... or is it tales... my weekend...
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Monday, June 04, 2007

Tails... or is it tales... my weekend...

Ha!! Got your attention eh?

I'll get to the tails in a bit...

But first.. a short tale
(yeah! yeah! I know, bad Anndi...)

I’ve been having a rough week folks… The funk came back… I worked crazy hours… and I didn’t even have the energy to visit very many blogs.

The highpoint of my week was on Thursday evening when my Chicklet, the awesome child that I’m raising to be, God-willing, a truly stellar human being, performed in a concert at school.

She participated in the opening and closing numbers of the show (the kids sang wonderfully). Towards the end of the extravaganza she recited a poem she wrote. She was the only one to have her writing (her first ever poem) featured in the concert and stood up there while I sat in the audience beaming and demonstrated her artistic flair. (Oh.. by the way.. it's in French). It's a cry out for our planet, one main theme they focused on at school over the past year is reducing waste and pollution.

La Terre (The Earth)

A poem by Chicklet

Ma mère la Terre,
(My Mother Earth)
mes sœurs les Océans,
(my sisters the oceans)
mes frères les Continents,
(my brothers the continents)
ma vie la Nature.
(my life is Nature).
Depuis longtemps ma famille est en danger.
(For some time now, my family has been endangered.)
Les océans pollués de l’essence de bateaux,
(Boat fuel pollutes the oceans,)
les continents sont malades, l’air pollué fait mourir les arbres.
(Our continents are sick, air pollution is killing the trees.)
La terre a ses eaux polluées et ses continents pollués.
(The Earth's oceans and continents are polluted)
La terre envoie un S.O.S.
(Planet Earth sends out an S.O.S.)

The concert was held in my old high school’s auditorium. It brought back many memories, and was bittersweet as it was renamed some time ago for a former vice-principal who died from AIDS. I remember watching “Philadelphia” not too long after he passed. I still can’t watch that movie without crying over his death.

I told my Chicklet that the auditorium was named after him, and that he had been a wonderful educator. She asked me what made him so great.

“He treated us, the kids, with respect. And we loved him for that.”

Too few adults respect kids, and we can stand to learn a thing or two from them, that’s something he taught me by example. And he will forever be in my heart.

Je t’aime Serge, tu me manques. Merci pour tout ce que tu as inspiré en moi.

My weekend in a lobster shell...

The Chicklet was away with her father this weekend, so I had some alone time with Dad, and some time for myself, a tub of Hagen Dazs and a chick movie.

As it turns out, Chicklet’s Dad was going to cook a dinner for some friends on Saturday night and some lobster was on the menu along with chicken brochettes
(anyone need a bib right about now?).

Chicklet has always turned her nose up at lobster, although she loves to visit the lobster tank at the local supermarket. She knows they’re on their way to becoming someone’s food but enjoys saying hi (I say she taunts them… “Your father was a Hamster…”).

Well, she agreed to try some! If she’s anything like me and my mother (which she is in almost all aspects of her personality so far…) she just might like it. Of course, she and I both have NOT inherited Mom’s taste (if you can seriously call it that without snickering.. or saying “bad taste”) for liver and something my mother thought was a delicacy, pig tongue pickled in vinegar (all together now… EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!) on saltine crackers (mom was crackers herself sometimes).

I drove her to her father’s new apartment. I had changed out of my jammies and pink fuzzy slippers and gotten dressed although I did joke about driving over in my nightwear to a friend (hehehe... you were right! It DID end up in a post LOL!!). Besides, I actually find it easier to drive in high heeled red sandals than the fuzzy pink slippers!

And I probably would have caused a slight stir at the market in my baby doll top and cotton capris…

After dropping her off, I drove back from the city and stopped off at Dad’s. Some friends are helping to get the pool started and I chatted with them for a bit.

Thoughts of lobster were firmly planted... swimming.. crawling(?) in my head and I know it’s been ages since Dad had some. Dad LOVES lobster! We had some fresh from the pier every summer when we went on vacation to Hampton Beach back in the days when I was a kid.

So I offered to go pick up some boiled lobster and make Dad a scrumptious lobster salad. Well… seems if you want the folks at the market to boil the lobster for you (and believe you me, that’s what I had in mind) you have to order ahead of time (how inconvenient!). Now, she could have boiled them in a batch later on .. but then Dad would have eaten too late so… I sucked it up, bought two live and squirming lobsters, got the boiling instructions and a small bag of sea salt and then I went into the liquor commission (booze store) and bought a lovely bottle of wine to bolster my courage.

When I returned to Dad’s, I set out to commit lobster homicide.... lobstercide? Cooking!

I had a big pot with water, some sea salt ( to REALLY make it feel at home), a very large glass of wine (for me) and a big spoon with a very long handle to poke the lobster once I had conned it into believing it was going for a lovely spa experience…

A very wise woman suggested I dump a bit of wine in the pot so my squirming and backpedaling soon-to-be dinner would have a little buzz. I decided against it.. can lobsters actually drink I wonder? Besides, by the size of it , it was decidedly underage although I’m willing to commit lobstercide, I stop at providing alcohol to minor lobsters (and I have no clue about Maritime law..) Besides, I do NOT, as a peace loving conscientious Canadian want to cause an international incident.. (what if they were from Maine?).

For those of you who have never boiled a lobster, it’s an interesting experience. The hardest part was putting lobster number two in the water… it put up a fight worthy of Muhammad Ali or Laila Ali
(depending on it’s sex... and no... I didn’t ask, and I didn’t look.. I’m no perv! Turnbaby, stop snickering this very instant!).

All those videos on YouTube about poor unsuspecting people who chuck a lobster in the pot only to find it tries to crawl out of the pot to exact revenge are all too true!

Lobster number one (I don't name my food.. I'm funny that way) spread out his claws (I've decided to assume the lobsters were male, don't read too much into it.. really) and tried to hold on to the sides of the pot as I attempted to shove him in the nice lobster jacuzzi. And lobster number 2 (the one on the right in that there picture) just straightened himself out as soon as I invited him to join his compadre making it VERY difficult for me to drop him and close the lid.

I learned that lobsters do not, in all actuality, scream the lobster equivalent of "save me" when you put them in boiling water... they mutter something about a pox and attempt to spit on you (but I don't believe they have salivary glands).

As I attempted to shove number one and number two in the pot, I stopped to fortify myself with a little vino.. Closing the lid on a jittery lobster feeler was not enjoyable. In fact.. it reminded me David Cronenberg and his bug movie... CREEPY. I kept expecting number one (clearly the more feisty of the two) to sit up, drape his little legs over the rim of the "lobster spa" and carry on a conversation about Noam Chomsky's views on child language acquisition and the innate basic grammatical structures that children are born with allowing them to have the ability to learn any language they are exposed to within the formative years. Ok.. maybe a little too much vino for me...

I was reminded of my mother's chief complaint the odd times when she ended up having to steam the lobster herself... the water, sea salt and lobster combination makes the kitchen smell like the ocean.. and NOT in a good way.

When all that was said and done... the lobster tails (see.. I finally got to them) were yummy when dipped in homemade garlic butter...

Love you all more than my luggage!
Hugs, smooches and gropes!

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Comments on "Tails... or is it tales... my weekend..."


Blogger Phil said ... (5:37 PM) : 

Hi Anndi,

Interesting post, I love the bit about the driving in the Jammies part, I get the picture in my head and I guess it reminds me of easy driving well actually comfy driving lets put it that way. LOL

The pickled pig tongue is a Southern delicacy but I had no idea about the lobster not screaming bit, I guess that there are a lot of things one might say were supposedly stated as fact but were I think just said to make one self even more squeamish.

Most importantly, it's really great that your daughter is very talented.


Blogger Travis said ... (6:09 PM) : 

You really need to post more often.

The poem...magnifique!! The video wouldn't work for me though. I'll have to check back.

I can't watch that final scene with the's heartbreaking.

Hey! Where's the warning about the red heels??? THUMP! Cute pink fuzzies by the way.

The lobster story is hilarious. I've only had it a couple of times at restaurants and I don't think I could cook it at home...especially not after reading this!

Cheers darlin! What do we do about these funks?


Blogger Meribah said ... (6:20 PM) : 

Um, okay, now I don't want to try lobster...ever. Boiling something alive? How cruel! I might have no qualms about pouring salt on slugs and watching 'em squirm, or piercing a worm with a sharp hook, or drowning mice...but I draw the line at the boiling creatures alive thing! LOL


Blogger Sparky Duck said ... (6:26 PM) : 

while the Baby Doll might have been a problem, the sleepy capris probably would have fit right in with the younger crowd.

Your lobster story reminds me why my best steamed crab recipe involves already cooked crab, then steamed in a wet paper towel. No squirming.

though I made a Toutine yesterday, does that make any sense to you?


Blogger Anndi said ... (6:43 PM) : 


Hi sweetie! My daughter thanks you for the compliment.
Driving in my jammies (ok.. I'll admit I did it once, late at night to pick up some milk and bread for then next morning's breakfast.. but with winter boots.. BIG bulky SKIDOO boots!)

Apparently the noise somemight hear when the lobster are plunged into their lobster jacuzzi is air escaping from the shell.. (made me feel better...). But I tell you I heard it call me a very unflattering epithet!

I'll take your word on the pig tongue *shudders*.

Thanks for the visit.


I'll try.

You have to watch the videos honey.

The last scene of Philadelphia tears me apart...

I never give warning... you know that!

I've conquered the lobster, not sure what's next though.

The funks come and they go, I'm dealing.


It's a quick death really... maybe next time I will give them a little wine, or some Grey Goose hehehe.


Don't think I'd pass for "younger" but thanks..

Well.. whatcha waiting for? Share the crab recipe please?!

You made a what?.. sounds like something someone makes after one too many servings of beans (like Matt-Man during lent... bwahahaha!)


Blogger julie said ... (12:00 AM) : 

I have missed you my Sweet Ann. Thank you for giving me some interesting reading for the night.

The video of your daughter wouldn't work for me either. Please let me know if you fix it.

Umm the lobster experience....i don't think I'll be trying it anytime soon!


Blogger Dixiechick said ... (9:07 AM) : 

Oh where do I start. What a wonderful post!

I absolutely love the poem Alice wrote. She is her mother's child.

I too love lobster but I'm like Julie, I don't think I'll be trying that anytime soon...



Blogger Turnbaby said ... (9:35 AM) : 

The Chicklet is marvelous!! I love her costume as well as the poem.

I've seen you in a camiand um...nm tee hee... and yeah you'd stop traffic in the good way hehehe

And you are TOO pervy ;-)

Very funny story about the lobsters--I can see you rolling your eyes as they first one thinks he can outfox a Duckmaster!

Picled pig's tongue is actually quite good!
Loved the post Angelbaby.



Blogger Jonathan said ... (3:09 PM) : 

The scene from Philly that breaks me down every time is when his brother sobs uncontrollably at the hospital bed scene.

I worked with a gay guy (Mike) when I was in college, and his "partner" Dan was in the same line of work as I am. Dan would take Mike to lunch sometimes, and he'd stop at my desk to talk shop with me. Now, I grew up a hayseed in a small TN town, so I didn't want to hang around gay guys at all.

But a funny thing happened along the way: I got to know both of these guys. They destroyed a lot of the small-town myths I had been exposed to for so long, and my thinking changed completely. They became good friends of mine.

Anywho, Dan fell ill in 1996, and that's when he and Mike told me that they both had AIDS. Dan was in his downward spiral, though Mike was "healthy" as can be. Dan died a few weeks later, and it was very sad for me. Mike died four years later.

Yes, AIDS is largely a preventable disease. Both Dan and Mike conceded that they were the victims of their own poor choices nearly a decade before, and thus had only themselves to blame. That said, AIDS doesn't just destroy the people who engage in risky behavior: it destroys their families and friends, too.

Didn't mean to get too deep here on such a light-hearted post (especially the story about the lobster, which was quite funny). But the reference to Philly made me think about it.


Blogger Anndi said ... (3:18 PM) : 

Sweet Julie

Problemo fixed! Thanks sweetie.

Oh come now.. it's just a crustacean! Oh God... now lobster is gonna be singing "Under the Sea" to me in my dreams...


Thanks sis!
She is very proud of her poem.
As I am proud of her.


She felt like a princess in that costume!
Bwahaha.. you've seen me in less than.. um.. nm ;)... oh... no such thing as TOO pervy hehehe!

DUCKMASTERS unite! (I miss the Damm Duck)

More tongue for you.. um.. well... um...



I like the way you just pop in like that and share. We learn and change when we open ourselves to new people.

Some movies and stories take a different spin when we can associate them with people and times in our lives.

Don't worry babe.. if you get too serious, I'll just ring the cowbell! ;-p


Blogger Phil said ... (6:53 PM) : 

Hi Anndi,

That's great, I like that two word definition of cooking lobsters.

I think that would be a great post if you know some one who could manually create the graphic of lobsters sitting around a cooking pot from the human eye's perspective but closer in you see a bunch of Lobsters sitting around this what you call lobster jacuzzi LOL One of them smoking a cigar and relaxing with his swimming trunks on or something like that, excellent name for it my friend.
lobster jacuzzi LOL


Blogger Dana said ... (9:19 PM) : 

Yummy mummy - I love lobsters


Blogger Travis said ... (11:25 PM) : 

The video works! Loved it!

Thanks for the poem in the French (THUMP) and the English translation. I was able to follow along with Chicklet's recitation.

I say it again...magnifique!


Blogger Desert Songbird said ... (1:10 AM) : 

I could actually read the French version of the poem and understand it without looking at the English translation. I guess my seven years of French language study haven't gone totally to waste...don't speak to me, though - I can't follow along!

Beautiful poem, beautiful child. I could feel your mother pride as I watched the video.

Oh, and lobster? Yum! I don't cook it, just eat it when I'm dining out!


Blogger Anndi said ... (6:39 AM) : 


LOL I'll get my "feelers" out for an artist.. maybe the Chicklet could doodle something! hehehe!


Yup! They were scrumptious (I see you only have issues with fruits with eyes!).

Uncle Travis!

That's my girl!


Merci ma chère!
Mom's know that pride all too well.

You know.. It not bad once they stop muttering insults and stick the feelers back into the pot.


Blogger Twyla said ... (9:02 AM) : 

LOL @ your lobster story.
My father was a lobster fisherman, and when I was younger he would bring home crates full of lobsters on the weekend to give to family members. Of course I had the job of helping to cook them. I hated taking the bands off, but figured out they can't pinch you if you're holding onto their backs...right at the base of their claws. LOL We only put about 2 inches of water in the bottom of the pot, just enough to steam them. And we would put them in while the water was cold...that way they had no idea what was happening and didn't put up much of a fight...then turn on the heat. God, it does sound VERY cruel doesn't it? I guess I'm just so used to doing it.
You'd know they were done when the 'feelers' could be pulled off. I always had the job of shelling the lobsters too. I am an EXPERT at it. LOL I have all kinds of tricks to get every bit of lobster meat, and I can do it in about a minute or less. That's about the only talent I have. I have a craving for lobsters. Must go find me some now. :-)


Blogger Jonathan said ... (10:06 AM) : 

Pickled pig tongue?

Now I'm from Memphis, where we can take many parts of a pig and turn it into culinary gold (especially with some BBQ sauce). But the tongue would NOT be one of those parts!

if you get too serious, I'll just ring the cowbell!

If there's one thing this world needs more of, it's not's COWBELL! "I've got a fever! And the cure is MORE COWBELL!"


Blogger Anndi said ... (10:10 AM) : 


You rock girl! ONE minute? I'm impressed!

The kind lady at the market gave me the couple of inches of water trick... makes for a nice lobster sauna!



There's something about eating what's been in a pig's mouth... yuck!

Cowbell, baby!

Big ole kiss on that noggin of yours!


Blogger Bond said ... (9:34 AM) : 

ANNDI: How did I miss this one?
Chicklet's poem and her presentation was course- have every right to be overly proud...
AH, I wish I could eat Lobster...I do like the idea of the wine..even if they are underage, who is going to tell...
Yours posts are so much fun, let's have more of them



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