Join the Family Business

My dad is a retired elementary teacher.
My mom is a retired elementary teacher.
My grandmother taught elementary school for a bit.
My sister has an elementary teaching credential.
I fought becoming a teacher for so long, but it's hard to fight something that has been surrounding you your entire life. You could say it's in my blood. And yes, I teach elementary school.

But teaching is just what I do, it's not what I am. What I am is a performer. With education so deeply rooted in my genetics, this performance tendency must be a fluke, right? Maybe not quite.

I grew up not only as the daughter of two teachers, but also as the daughter of a musician. My father's love for music is something very valuable that he has passed on to me. He taught me and showed me how to appreciate music, and the importance of challenging myself.

Teaching was just something my father did, but what my father is is a musician. During his teaching career, he brought his guitar into his classroom. He made time to be in a band. He 'jammed' with buddies. And for the past 20 years, he has been a constant fixture in our church's praise band as both a guitar player and drummer.

Dad and I singing at church camp-1993ish

When my dad retired from teaching, he had plans for his music. He was going to perform. He spent money on equipment, he put together a demo CD, he took voice lessons. He started getting gigs at retirement centers and such. But now, he is playing at farmer's markets, private parties and in downtown Visalia!

So yes, teaching is what I do...but what I am is a feather duster, a cloth merchant, a prostitute, a naval nurse, a scientist, a wardrobe consultant, and whatever else I want to be!

Family secrets

My dad's side of the family does this thing when it comes to gift giving. They have this bad habit (that wasn't passed down to me, thank goodness) of revealing what they've gotten you before you have the chance to open the box. From the subtleness of my aunt writing 'I hope it fits' in the card and tucking in the receipt, to the absolute blatantness of my grandma saying, 'Oh, you already have a scarf. I hope you like the one I got you, too.'
It has become an inside joke around the holidays, and it has gotten to point where we don't open the card until after we open the gift. This year, it has reached an all-time apex of ridiculousness. After my dad when up to visit family and bring back gifts, he showed me that my grandmother wrapped my gift in CLEAR cellophane.

I don't know who I blame more: grandma, for not even trying to keep the mystery alive; or dad, for showing me instead of just putting my gift behind the tree...

Strawberry pies forever

I changed the title of my blog. People were making comments about how weird it was...which is kind of true. It was an odd name, and it required a lot of explanation. Plus, I'm afraid it was off-putting. So I've changed the name of my blog. I feel like 'slice of life' is appropriate, as I am a recreational baker with a bit of a specialty when it comes to pies (if I do say so myself).
My dad has actually taken to calling me 'pie-girl', a moniker -like my apron- I wear with great pride! (If only the it came with my own pie-maker in shining armor).

This year marks the second-annual Chambers Family Memorial Day BBQ...and last year all I was in charge of was music, but this year I was on dessert duty! Because strawberries are delicious, and in season, I decided that a strawberry pie would be perfect. Also, there is a strawberry stand bike-riding distance from the house. (A bike ride justifies a hefty slice of pie, right?)

Dad made his 'famous' ribs n' chicken, mom spruced up the backyard and I did my part to make our Memorial day one to remember!

When life hands you lemons...

The other day my dad brought home a bag of lemons. Evidently, someone he works with at the credit union was giving them away, and he felt the need to snatch up at least half a dozen.

After telling me this he added, "I wonder how many lemons you would need for a lemon meringue pie?" which we all know is dad-speak for: "You should make me a lemon meringue pie!"

So today I made my very first lemon meringue pie! The crust wasn't too hard (since I'm pretty much a professional pie crust maker). The lemon part was a little trickier, and as for the meringue? Well, this pie was a bit of a collaboration between me and my mom (and my mom's stand mixer!)

I'll admit, it's not the prettiest pie I've ever made (chalk it up to following the recipe for an 8 inch pie, and putting it in a 9 inch pie pan!)

I can say, though, that of all the pies I've made...this is one of them!

I tried a slice and I wasn't sure if I severely messed up, or if I just don't like lemon meringue pie, but according to my target audience (my dad, whose favorite pie is lemon meringue) it was a bit tart, but not too bad. I'll call that a win!

PS...my hands will probably smell like lemon zest for about a week

You can't have your pie and eat it too...

I like to bake. Baking relieves my stress, and stimulates my creativity. Mostly just cookies, because they're fairly easy and the ingredients are usually just around. But lately, I really like to bake pies. I also like to eat pies...and homemade pies are the best to eat (so I've been told). However, my father has a ridiculous sweet-tooth, and now that I'm back living with my dearest, darlingest Mumsy and Popsicle it has become increasingly more difficult to keep baked goods around. About a month ago, I made a peach and blackberry pie. Y'know...just 'cause

It was not only the best and most prettiest pie I'd ever made, but it was probably one of the tastiest pies I'd ever eaten. But I only got to eat about two slices. I made this pie on a Monday afternoon; it was gone by Tuesday evening.

Last Saturday, my parents had a friend over for a BBQ...so my mom 'commissioned' a pie. I decided to make an apple pie with a layer of pecans and brown sugar under the crust.

I won't lie...it was a really yummy pie. According to dad, it was the best pie he'd ever had. Which apparently was cause for him to eat the half that was left over the next day. Just for once I want to make a delicious pie and have it last longer than a couple of days. I would like to bake a pie and get to eat a slice for dessert every night for a week without my dad devouring the pie I'd worked so hard to make.

Something to add to the list of things to do if I ever move out of my parents' house

I'm Coming Out...

...as a democrat.
This may not seem like a big deal, but I come from a pretty conservative family ranging from the fairly extreme (my grandma) to the moderate (my parents). Except when my grandma brings it up (using the conversational segue 'I don't want to talk about politics but...'), we don't talk about politics often as a family.
But I was up visiting my parents over the weekend and my dad asked me 'are you a republican or a democrat?' I'm not sure how this fit in to the conversation we were having, and this doesn't seem like a question you would generally ask someone, but if you knew my dad...you'd understand that none of that matters.
My parents always brought us up to think for ourselves, and instead of treating me like I was some crazy liberal commie, my mom actually said she was proud of me for developing my own opinions instead of just going along with what they've always said.
...she also said that we're not going to tell my grandma...

Angels We Still Hear on High

So I'm sitting in my office...listening to Christmas music and trying to pretend it's not 79 degrees outside, and the Relient K version of Angels We Have Heard on High comes on...well done, Pandora.
I was immediately reminded me of one Christmas past when I was going somewhere with my dad and for some reason he let me drive. I had 'Deck the Halls; Bruise your Hand'-RK's first Christmas album-in my CD player and this song came on. My father (a man who deems any music released post 70's is garbage and not worth lining your pet's cage with) had a knee-jerk reaction to the kinda punked out version of this Christmas classic. His exact words were "I bet the guy who wrote this song is rolling over in his grave right now." I think then my response was "whatever Dad, you just don't get it"...but now that I'm thinking about it a bit more, I should have said something like "Why? Because the song he composed is still being played? Because it's been re-vamped to reach a different kind of audience?" But my dad probably wouldn't have appreciated the sassy manner with which the following comment would have likely been delievered.
But seriously, I think he (who I just found out is named Edward Shippen Barnes thanks to Google) would be glad that the song he wrote about Jesus' birthday found a way to stay relevant. You really don't see many musical groups trying to rock out 'Twas in the Moon of Wintertime' or 'O Savior, Rend the Heavens Wide' or some other Christmas song that I would have never heard of if I hadn't opened the LBW I keep in my office to the Christmas hymn section...
that's all I'm sayin',