Stumbling along

Disclaimer:  Today's pictures have little or nothing to do with the actual post. They're just some snapshots from our lives these last weeks.

Justin using his pilot skills at the Fort Wayne air show.

A few days ago, Anna and I were in the car. She made a circle with her thumbs and pointer fingers and said something like, "We are kind of settled, but we're this much not settled." I knew exactly what she meant. It's how I've felt lately. The big pieces are in place and the work of getting the big things in place is done. Things like moving, finding a house, a car, and setting up. But things at the center, important things like friends, church, and routines are all in process.

Case in point--Roasted Vegetable Lasagna.

I usually cook with cookbooks or look for recipes online. I like to flip through and try new things. My cookbooks are still somewhere between Nice and Fort Wayne, so I checked out a couple cookbooks at the library this week, chose our menu, and wrote out the grocery list. 

Our grocery store, Meijer, is gigantic. The last time I was there it took me an hour and a half of soul-numbing backtracking and hunting and to get everything on my list. So, this time, I meticulously recopied my list into subcategories in the hopes of making just one trip down each aisle or even skipping some aisles altogether. And definitely to avoid backtracking.

Unfortunately, when I recopied the list, I didn't recopy what recipes I was planning to make. So, when Thursday rolled around I wasn't quite sure what I had intended to make. I remembered lasagna and enchiladas but could find no enchilada recipe matching my ingredients (I found it later online and bookmarked it). I did find the lasagna recipe in the Cooking Light cookbook.

So, I got to it. I roasted red peppers under the broiler, roasted yellow squash and onions, whisked up the white sauce, mixed the cheeses, cooked the noodles, sprinkled fresh basil here and there, got out the pan...and,,,um...I could not locate the 9 x 13 pan. I looked again. In with the cookie sheets and muffin tins, no. In the drawer under the oven? No. I looked in with the pots and pans on the left side of the oven, on the right side. I was sure my mom had given me a pan, but I finally gave up. 

My kitchen is a constant source of low level annoyance, by the way. It's really just fine as kitchens go, but it's not my kitchen in Nice--no pull out drawers for pots and pans, just dark cabinets where I root around for what I need. I have kitchen culture shock.

Anna at the Grabill Country Fair.

So, after nixing the idea of stuffing the lasagna into two bread pans, I walked down the street to a neighbor's house to borrow one. She wasn't home, which in the end was ok. Borrowing a cup of sugar is one thing, but a pan is a commitment. . 

At this point I was sure a five minute drive to the store would do me in, so I moseyed over to Scott. He was in the street talking with a lady who was walking her golden retrievers. Dog walking time is a good time for chatting in these parts. So, after we finished talking about training dogs (we'll be getting a dog soonish), Scott drove over to Kroger and acquired the 9 x 13 pan.

We eventually ate our dinner, and it was delicious. The kids even liked it, except for the vegetables, which they separated out. Their loss, our gain--Scott took Anna's; I ate Justin's. I don't usually clean the kids' plates, but it was too good not to.

So, today, I met my mom and sister for lunch. I told them about the roasted vegetable lasagna and the pan problem. And my mom says, "But I did give you a 9 x 13 pan, a glass one, maybe two." And I remembered in an instant the pan(s) and exactly where they are in the kitchen. 

This is Justin running a cross country race. It captures     the perseverance and work that I put into making roasted  vegetable lasagna.

My sister and I drove back together. We went into my kitchen, I opened the cabinet, and there they were. I took the lasagna leftovers out and served her up a couple pieces of lasagna to take home because it's too good not to share. 

So, I now have three lasagna-size pans, which makes me think that it would be fun to make three different kinds and invite gobs of people over for a lasagna party... 

Here's the recipe...roasted vegetable lasagna. It took me three hours to make it. It would likely take you less. Just find your pan before you start.

Wednesday, Justin and I went to Registration Day at his school. Before going, I printed off the following Registration Day information. I am pretty sure that all of this will look perfectly normal to all Americans reading this blog. It is clear, concise, and friendly. But for us, returning from the south of France, it felt like entering an alien universe. A friendly and inviting one, mind you. But, nevertheless, foreign territory.

So, here goes.

Step 1:  Enter Door 11 and see information table for SMS Registration Checklist and applicable forms if needed.

Step 1. We are given instructions about where to go and told what we will see when we get there. I think this is delightful. In southern France, in most new situations, you are expected to figure it out once you arrive by observing what others do, asking questions, or trial and error. You might find others who are trying to figure it out too, in which case you both do the preceding steps together. No one gets mad about not being told in advance, because figuring it out is part of the challenge of being new. In my experience, this applies to just about every place and institution.

Step 2:  If you have visited the SMS website to print and complete registration paperwork, and you have updated your child’s information on PowerSchool, then proceed to Step 3.  If not, then proceed to room A108 to access PowerSchool, update student information, and print applicable registration materials.  A108 is down the 6^th Grade Hallway off of the commons.  Once completed, proceed to Step 3.

Step 2. We are given the option of doing some paperwork in advance to make the registration process easier. If you haven't completed the task ahead of time, you are allowed to go do it on your own without anyone scolding you or sending you back home to do it. Cool.

Step 3:  Enter the line near the main office to see School Nurse and submit paperwork.

Step 3. We met the school nurse. There is a school nurse. Cool.

Step 4:  6^th Graders, enter line in 6^th grade hall to:

1.     Receive VISA/Handbook and sign name

2.    Receive schedule, locker number and combination

3.    Submit order slip and pay for purchases

 7^th/8^th Graders, proceed to cafetorium and see grade level table to:

1.     Receive VISA/Handbook and sign name

2.    Receive schedule, locker number and combination

3.    Submit order slip and pay for purchases

Step 4. Our first hiccup in the process was here. Justin doesn't  have a student handbook. There was a computer glitch the day he was to take the math placement test, so he took it yesterday. They will work out his schedule by Monday afternoon after he's done a French placement test (which he is excited about acing). Because the high school is across the street from the middle school, some students go over for advanced classes. 

Step 5:  Do the following in the cafetorium in no particular order (shortest line!)

o Receive P.E. shirt, if purchased

o Get picture taken (cheese!) for yearbook

o See athletic table for information and spirit wear

o Deposit money in lunch account

o See any other table of interest – welcome back!

Note:  You may also visit your locker at any time.

Step 5. P.E. shirt stand was manned by students, which was useful because the boy was the same size as Justin. We asked what size he wore, Justin held it up,  and it worked. The shirts cost five dollars.

Brilliant idea to do school pictures on registration day. Nobody has to get their picture taken after gym class.

Lunch. Oh my goodness. Justin had to try hard not to laugh here. The lady at this table explained the lunch menu. There are two main dishes each day, but if you don't care for the main dish, you can take a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a turkey sandwich, or a large yogurt as your main dish. 

What? You get to choose? And it's only $1.65. I paid for the semester, and Justin said in the car that he's been deprived all these years. In fairness to his school lunches in France, the quality was excellent, but you don't get much choice, and it was seven dollars a day.

I wonder if, at some future point in my cultural re-adaptation to American life, I will find all of this annoying and will long for the challenge of figuring things out the French way--observe, ask, trial and error. 

Next--Anna's reactions to her school visit.