Poor Tim. He not only had to sit through Julie & Julia with me last week, but then, had to make her Boeuf Bourguignon.

'Twas divine.

He said that when he went to our local liquor store to get the Burgundy needed for the recipe, all he could find were expensive bottles.

Tim (to clerk): Do you have any inexpensive bottles of Burgundy I can use in a recipe?

Clerk (snorting): Boeuf Bourguingnon?

Tim (sheepishly): Yeah. My wife just rented that movie.

Clerk: Follow me. I'll show you what I use.

Tim and Clerk (in unison, complete with eye rolls): Women.

If you're wondering how come I'm just getting around to this movie now, I explained in a previous post why I don't go to movies. Let's just say it's been awhile.

And, by the way, I did take a picture of this fabulous dish while it was still in the pot, but after an inordinate amount of time on the phone with tech support (there are no four-year-olds in the neighborhood to ask), I apparently need a new thingy to put in the doohickey of my camera before I can post any pictures.

Glad that's all cleared up.

This PA book club recently starting meeting at their local library on Mondays. We chatted by phone over a month ago when I called in, but Judy didn't want to send me a picture right away. I'll let her explain:

We want to wait until we all go out for our martini night before we take a picture.

My kinda book club.

Judy, Jenn, Julie, Jan and Pat. (Missing the fun that night: Megan, Sandy and Pam.)

Need more proof?

I enjoyed our discussion, ladies. (Hope you enjoyed the martinis!)

You didn't think I meant Emma of Altdorf, Queen of the East Franks, did you? What do you want from me? And, what kind of royal title is Queen of Franks, anyway? In the Kingdom of Oscar Meyer, perhaps? I'll take Queen of the Road any day, thank you very much. Especially since one of Emma's sons was known as "Charles the Fat." (Yeah. Try getting away with that in my kingdom.) Must have been all those hot dog buns.

The German edition of QUEEN OF THE ROAD just came out. It's called, A Woman - A Bus: With Husband, Poodle and 100 Pairs of Shoes Across America. And I thought I was bad at titles.

(OK, and here I'm going all Jewish mother on you): At least the cats aren't alive to see themselves left off the cover!

Seriously though, I do love the way the book looks and feels, as well as the cover art. If any German readers come to the blog, I'd LOVE to know how "Project Nerd" was translated.

Here's what they did with the synopsis (can anyone say, "lost in translation" in German?):

A Manhattan Princess in a mobile dwelling.

Doreen and Tim Orion [Tim just LOVES being called, "Tim Orion"] keep up a wonderful marriage, even when they both are diverse beings. Until Tim had an idea: He wants a refurbished bus to take a trip through the USA.

Until today Doreen does not know how Tim - a true nature lover - talked her into this. Probably with a trick - as at their first date. Nevertheless sits the whimsical shopping Princess [whimsical shopping Princess?] with shoes [I've never actually sat with my shoes, but it sounds like an interesting concept] in a refurbished bus, traveling with her man through the USA, with a giant poodle and two self-willed cats [I think they'd have liked that]. How Doreen between Alaska, tornados [what tornados - was I asleep in the back for that?] and nudist camps [OK. That, I remember] kept her majestic demeaner of "Queen of the Road" to rise above it all. That she did not commit murder therefore, shows how extremely humorous and warmhearted this book is. [Just what I was thinking: Murder might have detracted from the trip.] An American travelogue so entertaining as if coming from the pen of Bill Bryson. [Well, OK. All is forgiven.]

A Royal Wave-Out to the Queen Mother for Yiddish, as well as German Dictionary support, and especially Prince Henry (I almost called him, "The Queen Father," but that's kinda like calling my husband, "Tim Orion") for the actual translation from German to English.

Oh, the pressure.

Left to Right on Couch: Sharon Reavis, Rita Phillips, Beverly Brewer, Roz Harris

2nd Row: Michelle Halasz, Kathy Maxwell, Kathy Harbour, Joan McKenney, Jane Smit, Jennifer Newell

3rd Row: Elizabeth Hayward, Heidi Hall, Sondra Dickman, Karen Rascoe, Jan Darr

When Jennifer emailed to say that her brand new book club had chosen QUEEN OF THE ROAD for its very first read, I just didn't know if I could handle it.

Their very first meeting? Expectations would be so high. What if I sucked?

Then, I realized: It's their very first meeting. What do they know? I could absolutely suck and they'd have nothing to compare me to.

Excellent.

The ladies in this neighborhood club live just outside Richmond,Virginia in an area called Manakin Sabot. Note the tiaras and martinis. I'd say they're off to a pretty good start, no?

For a new club, they certainly asked a lot of interesting questions. One in particular was a total stumper for me: What was my favorite day of the trip?

I kept hoping they'd forget the question as we talked, but no. They did not let me off the hook. Finally, I couldn't decide between our day at the Disney water park (just pure, child-like, exhausting fun) or the armed robbery in Tucson. I know that's quite a dichotomy, so let me explain: There's nothing like thinking you're about to die - then realizing you're not - to make it seem like a pretty good day. Maybe even one of the best. As I wrote in the book, I also learned a lot from that experience, so I think I'll stick with those two choices.

Thank you for a lovely discussion, ladies. And especially thank you for the honor you bestowed upon Your Queen. For, you might have another author call in, you might very well enjoy other books more, but Your Queen shall always be your first!

Anyone know what the real mystery of Passover is? Bet you didn't even know Passover had a mystery.

I'm not talkin' the Four Questions.
(I wish I could remember some of my late Uncle George's riffs on them. He was an old Vaudevillian, and used to have us in stiches during seders.)

It's also not where the Afikomen is hidden. (I don't even remember what we got for finding it. Maybe a nickel? Ah, inflation.)

It's not even who the son too stupid to ask refers to during the seder. (Since he was the only boy around the table, his sisters and I used to point to my cousin, Doug, when this part of the Haggadah came up.)

The real mystery of Passover isn't ancient. As far as I know, it's only decades old, but it has plagued, plagued I say, every generation of Jewish kids since my own. I myself have pondered this mystery since childhood. Hint: I am still haunted by the seeming senselessness of the mystery every time I pass through the "Jewish food" aisle at the grocery store.

Ready? The mystery of Passover is simply this: How come you can't get kosher marshmellows any time of year except the Kosher for Passover ones that somehow magically appear right before Passover? I mean, it doesn't make any sense, does it? As a kid, the weeks before Passover, and over the holiday itself, were the only times I could roast marshmellows over an open fire. Well, OK. It was the open fire of our gas stove, but still. Funny how Passover has always been my favorite holiday, despite the obvious association with camping - not just the roasting marshmellows thing, but the whole wandering in the desert thing.

My favorite Passover food (besides the marshmellows) wasn't the gefilte fish* (imagine that), but the charoset. Yum. (Click that link for a recipe.)

*The first time Tim came to a seder, he was given a lovely piece of gefilte fish in jellied broth. (Hey, you pay extra for that!) He looked at it, looked at me and asked, "What am I supposed to do with it?" I replied, "Don't even think of throwing it back."