The Deep End of the Pool

I rush into the house, drop the car keys onto the table, and run over to my computer to check the evite again.   I am definitely going to be a little late, what with gathering up all the supplies, but it can't be helped.  I head into the garage and start hunting through the shelves.

My husband:  So where are you going without me tonight?
Me:  (mumbling on purpose):  Oh, it's a god *muffled* ss party.  
Him:  What?   I didn't catch that.
Me:  (much more loudly):  Do you know where we keep the little candleholder things?
Him:  No.  Why?
Me:  OK then, can you go outside and pick me a few lemons?  With leaves on them?
Him:  Um, I guess so.  Why do you need leafy lemons?
Me:  Thanks, honey!  


Having found my candle, I throw it into the bag on the counter.  I go back to the evite again.


You are invited to A Goddess Party!  Please bring:

• a favorite dish or drink (it's a potluck)
• an inspirational reading material
• flowers/foliage from around your home
• gently used gift item you love but can't use anymore (may be wrapped)
• photo of loved one(s) and/or crystals
• pillow for your toosh & small wrap/blanket
• candle

Dress comfortably!

Even as I read it for the tenth time, I have to resist the by-now-familiar urge to either run away and hide or to double over with laughter at the absurdity of the whole thing.  Photo of loved ones and/or crystals?  [Pause for effect.  Look out at audience.] "Are those, like, interchangeable in Goddess-land?"  [Crowd roars in appreciation.  I move on to witty riffs on "toosh" and "foliage"].

But, no.  I am not only going to the Goddess Party, I am leaving my cynical, snarky self at home and taking my toosh pillow and poetry off to Calabasas.   I even arm myself with a warm-from-the oven bread pudding as an offering to my fellow Goddesses.

Walking in the door of my friend's home, my fears flare up again.  I don't know a soul, with the exception of my hostess.   The living room floor is covered with different fabrics, scented votives twinkling everywhere.  Baskets full of lavender, rosemary, and birds of paradise form a circle around the candles.  I feel my eyes rolling involuntarily, and have to check myself.  Framed photos nestle in the ring here and there, in front of a variety of pillows clearly meant for all of these strangers and me to sit on.   And do what???  God, please don't let there be chanting.

I stroll into the kitchen, shaking hands and meeting the other guests.  A few are chatting away like old friends, others look almost as nervous as I do. One woman leafs through well-worn paperbacks, dog-earring pages for inspiration at the last minute.  Looking around in vain for a glass of wine*, I begin grazing the appetizer spread in a show of "This isn't weird at all" bravado.

After a few late arrivals, including (hooray) one more familiar face, there are eleven women sitting cross-legged in the candlelit room.  The solemnity of the burning sage ritual** is marred somewhat by us falling into fits of giggles when our leader is outside.  But we compose ourselves and settle down to listen, as one by one, each tells about the people in the photo, about her story, about herself.


The awkwardness vanishes.

A marriage is breaking.  
A relationship is holding on by a thread.  
Cancer has been beaten.  
God has been found.  
A brother has died unforgivably.  
One 89 year old mother refuses to rest, my 71 year old mother refuses to live.  
A grandson shines. 
A younger sister is gone three days after a joyous moment in the sun.
A sibling struggles and a family falls apart.
Lost love returns with a vengeance.  
A husband accepts her unconditionally, and she adores him for it. 
There is the miracle of a son.



And we are, collectively, suddenly, massively grateful to be able to speak these things aloud, without judgement. To women who have their own, different but somehow terribly similar, struggles and triumphs going on, and so understand every word completely.   The unburdening is cathartic, the release intense and unexpected and draining and energizing, all at once.  


A flurry of buoyant support comes back from the group.   Passages and poems and, at the end, voices from all around.   Information and emotion flows around the circle.  We feel we know, a little.  We know enough.

We say to each other:

You are gentle. 
You are kind.
You are a bridge, a path, the glue.
You are infectious.
You are gorgeous.
You are smart and creative and wise.
You are fierce.
You are crazy sexy cool.
You are so strong.  Even when you bend into seemingly impossible shapes, you get stronger.
You are a poetess in disguise.
You are a teacher, a giver, a mother, a muse.
You are a great and true friend.
You are a force of nature.
You are the deep end of the pool.  


We believe each other.   


We blow out the candles, toss our cares into the fireplace***, open up the wine, and eat a pile of delicious food with so much gusto you'd think we'd been starving for weeks.  We do this together.  If not as actual Goddesses****, at least as new-found friends.

Bread Pudding of the Goddesses

Adapted from a recipe in Bon Appetit Magazine

Bread pudding is an incredibly useful tool of the leftover trade.  In this instance, I was able to make this sensational dessert using a package of stale hamburger buns that were just sitting around in my cupboard.  It may well be even better with bread you buy just for the occasion, but I'll never know.  It is NOT a useful tool of the dieting trade.    But it is sublime enough to be worth every calorie.

To line the baking dish:

1 1/2 c. brown sugar

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt

For the pudding:

About 6-8 cups of bread cubes, preferably from a rich, relatively dense type of bread, such as country french, sourdough, or egg bread*****

A little more than a cup of the add-ins of your choice, optional****** 

1/4 c. butter, melted   

3 c. heavy cream

1 c. whole milk

6 eggs, plus 2 egg yolks

1/3 c. sugar

2 tsp. vanilla extract

generous grating of fresh nutmeg

a couple of pinches of salt

Choose a heavy 9x9 square, round or oval baking dish.   Combine the brown sugar, cinnamon and salt in a small bowl, then spread the mixture into the bottom of the baking dish.   This will magically form a caramel sauce on the bottom of the pudding as it bakes.  YUM!   

Spread a layer of bread cubes on top of the brown sugar.  Sprinkle half of your add-ins (if you are using them, and I hope you are!) on top of the bread.  Cover with another layer of bread cubes, and the rest of your add ins.  The dish should be nicely full but should not have bread above the edges.    Drizzle the melted butter on top of the bread, and set the dish aside.

In a larger bowl, whisk together the cream, the milk, the eggs and egg yolks, the sugar, the vanilla, the nutmeg and the salt until blended and smooth.  Pour the custard over the bread in the dish.  

Cover loosely with plastic wrap, and push down gently to make sure that all the bread is submerged.  If you have a heavy plate handy, set it on top, otherwise stop by occasionally to push the bread back into the custard.   Allow pudding to sit for at least 30 minutes, or put into the fridge for several hours if you like.   If you do that, remove from the fridge and allow to come to room temperature before baking.

Preheat the oven to 350.  Place the pudding into a roasting pan large enough to hold it comfortably, and add enough lukewarm water to come halfway up the sides of the baking dish.   Remove the plastic wrap.  Carefully put the pan into the oven.  Bake until pudding is set, golden brown on top, and a small knife inserted into the center comes out clean...about 1 hour and 15 minutes.  Let cool in the water for 20 minutes.

Spoon bread pudding into dessert bowls, scraping some of the luscious sauce from the bottom of the pan onto each piece.  Top with fresh whipped cream.

Click to Print this recipe!

* Goddess party rules say no alcohol before the ceremony.  You'd think that little piece of info would have been on the invite, but no.
** There really was this branch of burning sage that practically smoked us all out, used for the ceremonial inaugural "smudge" that we all received.   I had to bite my tongue.
*** Literally.  We wrote down seven things we wanted to leave behind us in 2011, then burned the list in my friend's fireplace.
**** I mean, come on.  I may feel a lot better, but I'm still me.

***** You will need enough to fill up your baking dish, so the exact amount may vary.

****** I HIGHLY recommend bittersweet chocolate chips and dried cherries, but you can use raisins or other dried fruit, fresh apples tossed with a little cinnamon, bananas...you name it!

I've been discovered...

...at least by Steph, a fellow FFWD blogger who was kind enough to give a nod to Cheesy Pennies in her list of blogs worth checking out. She's received the same nod herself from several folks, so it's like I was noticed by someone noticeable. Which is extra special.

Thanks, Steph!

In the event that your salmon filet tries to do a sweeping overhaul of the nation's healthcare system just before the midterm elections

Give it a good shellacking*.

Pacific Northwest Lacquered Salmon

Adapted from The New Basics Cookbook by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins.  The original recipe calls for the salmon to be grilled**, but as tasty as that is, the process can be really messy with this marinade.  I find broiling to work wonderfully instead.

8 Tbs. (1 stick) butter

1/3 c. honey

1/3 c. packed brown sugar

2 Tbs. freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 tsp. liquid smoke flavoring

3/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

1/2 tsp. kosher salt

1 center cut salmon filet (about 2 lbs), skin on, in 1 piece

Combine the butter, honey, brown sugar, lemon juice, liquid smoke, red pepper flakes and salt in a saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring every so often, until smooth, 5 to 7 minutes.  Allow to cool to room temperature.

Arrange the salmon in a shallow rimmed dish.  Pour all but 1/3 cup of the cooled marinade over it.  Let stand for 30 minutes.  About halfway through sitting time, stop by and spoon marinade on the side back over the salmon again.

Preheat broiler.  Cover a baking sheet with foil, spray a cooling rack with non-stick spray, and set the rack on top of the baking sheet.  Transfer the salmon to the rack.  Broil for 10-12 minutes, watching carefully.  Because the marinade is full of honey and sugar, it will tend to caramelize quickly and burn easily.   If this happens before the full time is up, move salmon down to a slighly lower rack, and add a few extra minutes to the cooking time.

While salmon is cooking, rewarm remaining marinade.  Just after salmon comes out, drizzle the extra marinade on top.  Serve immediately.

For an entertaining history of the word "shellacking", click here***.

* Hopefully, like Mr. Obama, the salmon will absorb the lesson and achieve surprising legislative victories during the lame duck session, or at least make all of the picky eaters in your family happy for once.
** Now with the grilling?  Is there no end to these absurd partisan attacks?
*** To be fair to the Bush administration, I suppose I should work on a recipe that would involve a good thumping.   Will keep you posted.

Two down

Me:  So.  A few people, with kids.   Totally casual, for your birthday. I'm thinking burgers.

Him:   And...potato salad!?!

Me:  Well, it is your birthday...

Him:  I love you.

Me:  In that case, we'll have carrot cake, too.

Potato Salad!

For Step 1:

About 2-3 lbs white or red potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch cubes

1 Tbs. kosher salt

For Step 2:

1/3 c. olive oil

2 Tbs. apple cider vinegar

kosher salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

For Step 3:

4 hard boiled eggs, finely chopped*

3/4 c. chopped green onion

1 c. finely diced celery

1/4 c. minced Italian parsley, plus extra for garnish

1 1/2 c. mayonnaise

2 Tbs. Dijon mustard

2 tsp. creole seasoning or seasoned salt of your choice

Step 1:  

Place potatoes and salt in a large pot of cool water.   Place the pot over medium high heat, and set a timer for 15 minutes.   When the timer goes off, check the potatoes for doneness.  They should be cooked through but not mushy.  Give them another minute or two if they need it.

Step 2:

While the potatoes are boiling, whisk olive oil, vinegar, salt and pepper together in a large bowl.   Start with about 1 1/2 tsp. of salt and maybe 1 tsp. of pepper.    When the potatoes are done, drain, and immediately add the hot potatoes to the bowl and stir gently to completely coat them.  Taste to see if you need more salt and pepper, and then allow to cool completely.  This step gives the potatoes a nice dose of flavor, as they will absorb the oil and vinegar mixture as they cool.  It will also help them keep their shape in the finished salad.   Neat trick!

Step 3:

While the potatoes are cooling (or the night before if you are so inclined), chop up all the green stuff, and get your hard boiled eggs ready.   Stir the mayo, the mustard and the seasoned salt together in a smaller bowl and set aside.   When the potatoes are cool, stir in the eggs, green onions, celery and parsley.   Then carefully mix in the mayo/mustard combo.    

Taste for seasonings, then store in the fridge for at least an hour before serving.   Garnish with additional parsley, if desired.

Click to Print this Recipe!

Carrot Cake, too!

From the wonderful New York Cookbook by Molly O'Neill

Let's just say that if there is carrot cake on the menu, my husband will order it.   I tried recipe after recipe for many (many!!**) a birthday of his until I hit upon this one, and I've never looked back.   The only carrot cake that even comes close is the one from The Baker, a terrific neighborhood spot in Woodland Hills that makes a killer double layered version that we both swoon over.

For the cake:

1 1/2 c. vegetable oil

3 c. sugar

4 1/2 c. freshly grated carrots (about 10-12 large carrots)

1 1/2 c. coarsely chopped walnuts

3 c. all purpose flour

1 Tbs. baking powder

1 1/2 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. freshly ground nutmeg

1 tsp. salt

6 large eggs

For the frosting:

1/2 c. (1 stick) butter, softened

12 oz. (1 1/2 pkg.) cream cheese, softened

2 Tbs. milk or cream

1 Tbs. vanilla

2 c. powdered sugar

pinch of salt

Preheat the oven to 350, and oil a 13x9 or 10x15 pan***.  

In a large bowl, combine the oil, sugar, carrots and walnuts.  In a separate bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt.  Using an electric mixer, add three eggs to the carrot mixture, then 1/2 of the flour mixture, then the other three eggs, and then the last of the flour.  Beat well on medium speed after each addition.  

Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and bake until the cake is springy to the touch in the middle.  This will take about 45-50 minutes in the 13x9 pan, or 35-40 minutes in the larger pan.  Cool in the pan on a wire rack.

To make the frosting, blend butter and cream cheese together with an electric mixer until light and fluffy.   Add the milk and the vanilla and beat well.   Finally, mix in the powdered sugar and the salt.  It will be smooth and silky and absolutely delicious.  But don't eat all of it right now.  It is supposed to go on the cake.

When the cake has cooled, you can either frost it right there in the pan, or turn the cake out onto a serving plate to frost the whole thing.   

Some people (not me) like to throw a bunch of extra walnuts around the side or decorate with little frosted carrots.     But for special occasions, I do let my twelve year old go a little crazy with the red food coloring.

Whatever makes them happy, right?  Right.  

Happy Birthday!

Click to Print this Recipe!

* I use this neat tool that I inherited from my mom.  You can use it to create perfect egg slices, or, if you rotate the egg after the first slicing, you get beautiful little egg matchsticks.   I thought I had some kind of vintage heirloom, but it turns out you can get these on Amazon for less than $20. Otherwise, using a knife works great, too.

** He's had plenty of birthdays, so all this practice hasn't been an issue.  

*** I used a 10x15 size in the pictures here, so the cake is not quite as high as it will be if you use the smaller pan.  

The Holy Grail of Coffee Cake

There seems to be at least one in every town or neighborhood...the breakfast place with crowds of people milling about under the eaves on weekend mornings, clutching their free cup of coffee and the newspaper while they wait half an hour or even 45 minutes for a table. The crowd is pleasantly bed-headed, attired in slouchy t-shirts or workout clothes, or perhaps whatever they were wearing on a hot date the night before. People chat, hold hands, lean on shoulders, or just sit companionably on benches.   There are strollers and dogs, baseball caps and sunglasses accessorizing the scene.  Someone has brought a grandparent.  Few will even glance at the menu when they sit down, instead ordering their usual thing from the friendly, freckled young waitress in the polo shirt that stops by. Crayons are plentiful, as the placemats are made for drawing on until the pancakes come.  Mugs are constantly being refilled without asking, there's syrup ready to go at the table, and when that first forkful of breakfast hits the tummy, all is truly right with the world.

Where I went to school, this place was called Hobee's. It has been nearly a quarter of a century since I was in college*, but Hobee's is still there, and is still famous for two things:  Their spicy orange tea, brewed so strongly that it feels like you are drinking dark liquid cinnamon, and their coffee cake.

This is the one and only photo on the Hobee's website.  They clearly know what the people want to see.

I do like their tea.  But I have not spent 25 years trying to duplicate it at home**.  Their coffee cake, on the other hand, is an obsession.

It comes to your table in what can only be called a slab. A thick square, maybe 4 inches across and a few inches high.  The cake itself is rich and dense and warm, with juicy blueberries tucked in here and there.   It is covered with sugary cinnamon crumb topping, and comes with a little scoop of butter right in the middle, which  has begun melting into that sugary topping on its way from the kitchen.  Oh my god, do I love that coffee cake.  I have loved it since my very first morning at Hobee's and I will love it until the day I die.

And people know this about me.  In one memorable exchange, a guy I'd been friends with for years was upset that our relationship was not going to evolve into more than that.  He was very upset, actually.

Him:  (after all else has failed)  Well, you know what?
Me:  What?
Him:  Hobee's coffee cake is made....FROM A MIX!!!
Me:  (tearing up at last)  It is NOT!
Him:  It is TOO!  I saw it, in the kitchen one time.  A big fat mix from COSTCO!!!
Me:  You're a LIAR!! That's what you are!  GET OUT!!!!

We never spoke civilly again.

After literally decades of trying, I have, at last, found the holy grail.  A way to make something close*** to Hobee's Coffee Cake at home.

Blueberry Sour Cream Coffee Cake
A personal homage****

For the cake:
3 c. buttermilk baking mix (like Bisquik)
1 c. sugar
1 1/2 c. sour cream
3 eggs
Splash of vanilla or almond extract
1 pint fresh blueberries
A couple of Tbs. of powdered sugar

For the topping:
3 c. flour
1 c. brown sugar
1 c. sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 c. (3 sticks) butter, cut into small pieces

Butter a 9x13 baking pan.   Blend baking mix and sugar together in a large bowl, then mix in the sour cream, eggs, and vanilla with an electric mixer for 3-4 minutes.  Batter should be very light and smooth.  Set aside.  Rinse and dry the blueberries, then gently roll them in powdered sugar to coat.  This will keep them from streaking the batter when you mix them in.   Carefully stir the blueberries into the batter.  Pour batter into pan.   If you want to make sure you have some blueberries on the top of your cake, save a few to scatter on top after it goes into the pan.  Otherwise, they all tend to sink as the cake bakes*****.

Using a pastry blender, fork or a food processor, blend all the topping ingredients except the butter until well combined.   Then, pulse or mix in the butter until you have a nice, chunky topping that resembles a blend of small pebbles, cornmeal and pieces of cookie dough.   Sprinkle liberally on top of the cake batter, breaking up larger chunks and making sure to cover it entirely and generously.   You may have a little extra, which is nice for a little treat after all this hard work.

Bake at 350 for 35-40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out nearly clean, with just a few moist crumbs.  Serve warm.  If you have some butter and a little ice cream scoop around, all the better.

* I know this because my reunion is coming up this fall and I double checked the math on the email they sent because I was sure they had me in the wrong class.   But I am, in fact, officially some kind of geezer grad now.  I even put on my progressive lenses and read the damn thing twice.

** Especially since I discovered that the Good Earth Tea you can get at the grocery store is pretty darn close.  You just have to let it steep for about 15 minutes longer than they usually recommend.
*** Perhaps even better, because as usual, I have erred on the side of extra topping.  
**** Of course, now there's a purported copy of the real recipe online, which CLEARLY shows it does not come from a MIX!!!
***** This is fine in my house, because the kids assiduously eat around the blueberries, so having them on the bottom makes the dining table a lot less messy.

One down, me to go

I pick up my son after school.

Him:  What's for dinner?
Me:  Fried chicken.
Him:  (Grabbing my arm and practically yanking our car off the road in his excitement) The kind you make?  The one like you made before that time?  That one?
Me:  Yep.
Him:   Happiest day of my life.   Right here.  Happiest day ...of...my...LIFE!

He sits back in the front seat, changes the radio station to something truly annoying* and starts texting and facebooking and whatever else on his phone.   We're not talking anymore, but we're both grinning like idiots.

Buttermilk Fried Chicken Strips
A mash up of recipes from The Pioneer Woman and The Clinton Street Bakery Cookbook.  The cookbook is a recent acquisition and it's gone right into the rotation of cherished favorites.

About 2 lbs of boneless chicken breast tenders**

Marinade:
2 c. buttermilk
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. garlic powder or onion powder

Coating:
2 c. flour
1 Tbs. seasoned salt
2 tsp. ground black pepper
1/2 c. buttermilk

Frying:
2 -3 pieces of bacon (optional)
Plenty of canola oil

Rinse chicken tenders and pat dry.  If there's any visible fat or any those little white veins on them, trim those off.

Combine the marinade ingredients in a medium bowl with a whisk.   Place the chicken tenders in a shallow dish, and pour the marinade over them.    At this point, you can let them soak in the fridge for many hours, or as little as 30 minutes.  Depends what time of day you found this recipe.

Combine all the coating ingredients except buttermilk in a dish that is shallow enough to let you put a few pieces of chicken in there and roll them around, but has sides high enough so when you do that stuff doesn't spill all over the floor.    Slowly toss in the buttermilk with a fork.  This may seem strange, but it will create these little clumps of coating that will make the chicken extra crispy and good.  Trust me.

Take the chicken out of the fridge.  Get out a large cooling rack, and set it over a baking sheet or paper towels for easy clean up.     Arrange these three things in a line:  chicken container, then coating container, then rack.

Working a few pieces at a time, place chicken into coating mixture and turn gently until completely covered.  Place on the rack.   Continue until all the chicken is ready to go.

In a large, deep frying pan, add canola oil to a depth of about 1 inch.  Heat over medium high heat.    Here comes that optional bacon part.  I'd read that real Southern fried chicken is sometimes cooked in bacon fat,  so my nod to that tradition is to fry a couple of pieces of bacon in my relatively healthy canola oil to give it that bacon-y flavor.   If you're with me, add the bacon to your hot oil, and let it fry until crisp.    What happens to it after that is none of my business.

Fry the chicken strips in batches, making sure not to overcrowd the pan.  Turn once.  You should need roughly 2-3 minutes per side, depending on the thickness of your pieces.   Place finished pieces on a baking sheet covered with paper bags or paper towels to drain any remaining oil.

Serve hot with your favorite sauces***.   Might not be the happiest day of your life, but it will come close.

Click to print this recipe!

* This is a great parady of my current nominee for most irritating song in the world:

** If you have a growing teenage boy, use closer to 3 lbs.  You can also use boneless chicken thighs for part of this, but trim them really well of fat and cook about a minute longer on each side.

*** My favorite sauces for these:

Homemade or purchased BBQ sauce

Equal parts Dijon mustard and apricot preserves, mixed

The kids favorite:  Ketchup

My New Year's Resolution

...is obviously not about timeliness.

In fact, I was going to give the whole resolution thing a miss.   Poor track record and all that.   But then, I made one anyway.

So it's clearly not about decisiveness, either.

It's also not about the things I should do this year*:

Eat healthier
Nag less
Re-evaluate the phrase "a good skin care regimen" to determine whether it could apply to me personally
Charge what I'm worth
Get some sleep

And it's not about the things that I shouldn't:

Check email while driving
Ever eat at McDonald's
Overcommit
Take my family for granted
Wear that sweatshirt with the holes in it out in public

Nope.  It's not about rightness or wrongness.
It is about an intention and a dream and a few very wise words from Mr. Berry Gordy, Jr**.

The first part, the intention and dream part, comes from the message of the week*** at my kickboxing studio:

Make a list.  A real list, that you write down and keep close.   On one side of the list are your intentions, your goals.  Specific, attainable things you want for yourself this year.   On the other side are your dreams.  Your wildest, craziest, biggest ambitions.  The pie-in-the-sky hopes that make your heart soar.   If you don't give voice to your dreams, you may as well not have them, right?  So let them fly!

The second part, the Berry Gordy part, comes from a talk he gave to the kids at my daughter's school in honor of Martin Luther King's birthday.    He told stories about his boyhood and his boxing days and his career in music and his friendship with Dr. King that had the entire room spellbound.    How hard it was for him to embrace the concept of "turning the other cheek", but how deeply he felt that to be at the core of the civil rights message that we were all celebrating now.  Towards the end, he said there was one great lesson he'd learned the hard way:

The secret to happiness is being proud of yourself.  To live life in a way that you feel good about deep down inside.   All kinds of people are rich and famous and miserable.  Other people have a lot less but they are full of joy.   Choose well.  Choose good.  Choose joy.

And so, I'm doing just that.  My intention and my dream and my resolution are all the same:

This year, I resolve to be happy.
I choose joy.   

What's on your list?

*I may do those things this year.   But I don't officially resolve to do them.
** Yes, that Mr. Berry Gordy, Jr.
*** This was actually the message of two weeks ago.  But I think I did already say that this wasn't about timeliness.  And I did manage to get it written down, so that's a huge plus.