2012 is now in the building

Sunrise over Badlands

Last year at this time, a whole 13 hours into my temporary gig as acting director of the museum, I received an emergency call from the facilities crew to tell me that the building was flooded. The new building. On my watch. (Single-digit outside temperature + uninsulated vestibule = freeze and burst in the sprinkler system.) It was something of a harbinger for 2011, which brought us a new disaster, loss or illness Every. Single. Month. It's hard to find anyone in my circle of friends and family who was not hurt, often devastatingly, by the Year 2011 Effect.

I can now step forward and take responsibility for some of this. Maybe all of it, worldwide. Like so many people with Southern grandmothers, I make sure that black-eyed peas, cornbread and some kind of leafy green something are on the table for New Year's Day dinner. It's not a law--laws can be repealed. It is much more demanding than some mere law. It's more like a universal constant.

So, last year at this time, 2 hours before the flood in the building, we found that the black-eyed peas had....failed. In spite of soaking and cooking, and even last-minute nuking, for 48 hours, the little monsters never softened up. They were crunchy and tasteless. This is not a good thing for black-eyed peas. For whatever reason, somehow, somewhere, these peas dried for good in the bag, and nothing I could do brought them to life. And I had no backup.

So we had maybe 4 or 5 BEP each. Two hours later, the building flood call came, and, after that, it was a year full of natural disasters, personal losses, and other Bad News.

I apologize to everyone on the planet.

However.

It was also a year of unexpected joys, sweet reunions, new directions, new friends, and constant little reminders of our infinite capacity as humans for resilience, delight and love. Even with the flood, we had 20+ wonderful people there within an hour--on New Year's Day--pitching in to help in all directions. I'm crediting that to the BEP we were able to choke down.

This year, today, the Hoppin' John and cornbread are ready to go. The peas are perfect. We have blue skies and--so far--no panicked phone calls. I'm willing to give 2012 a chance.

I did have 2 cans of pre-cooked black-eyed peas as a backup--it's that important--but I did not need them.

Here's wishing you all a year of hope, joy, love and new directions.

Family recipe Monday: muffins and popovers

Bird runes on the front porch

For straight-out mental exhaustion on a grand scale, the sort that makes your loved ones seriously debate the merits of having you placed in a nice home for the bewildered for a while, very little stacks up against unrelenting weeks of grant-writing interspersed with a few building emergencies. Times being what they are, there is no let-up to grant-writing in sight. In order to be the flagship institution I think we can be within the next ten years, we absolutely must re-think, re-plan, re-tool, and find the resources to do that. But that work is in addition to, not instead of, everything else that is going on. We plan strategies. We plan budgets. We teach and grade and advise. We serve on committees. And we write grants.

On Friday we moved most of the bones of a mammoth from the old building to the new one. Yeah, they're big. And they had to go down a story's worth of outdoor steps. In the snow. That led to a great discussion on how we should be commemorating these events for the participants--grand-tour-type rock band T-shirts, or Scout-type badges? It's been an astounding year when viewed in retrospect. Opened a new building. Moved steel cases with our bare (OK, work-gloved) hands. (My grandmother always did want me to wear gloves during the day....) Moved a library and a half. Packed thousands and thousands of rocks and fossils. Bought a forklift (for this I went to graduate school?). Mopped up a flood. Mopped up other leaks. Gave tours to a couple of thousand people even before the building opened. Moved giant sculptures into place. And, in the process, got blessed with one of the best groups of students, faculty and staff ever, anywhere.

My new plan in to start bringing in some kind of baked goods every Friday to keep everyone happy, or at least fed. I'll post a running chronicle here on Thursdays. With any luck and a few good breaks in the weather, we can get this move completed by the summer. I've posted some of my favorite cookie and muffin recipes already; it's time to start baking them for the troops here.

This is another of my favorite big-batch mix recipes. Nice to have on hand at the end of a frenetic week, and easy to load up with fruit so that we can call it a health food....

Oatmeal mix

7 cups flour
3½ cups sugar
2 T salt
¼ cup baking powder
2¼ cups shortening
18-oz. box rolled oats

Combine dry ingredients in very large bowl. Sift. Using a pastry blender, cut shortening into mix until mix is consistency of cornmeal. Store in airtight container in cool, dry place. To measure, spoon lightly into cup and level off with spatula. Yield: 22 cups mix.

Oatmeal muffins

1 egg
½ cup milk
3 cups Oatmeal Mix (above)

Beat egg until light. Add milk and mix well. Pour into oatmeal mix. Stir just enough to moisten, Fill greased or papered pans 2/3 full. Bake at 425* F for 20 minutes. Yield: 1 dozen.

Variations: Add ¾ cup chopped dates, ¾ cup simmered raisins, 1 cup blueberries, ¾ cup chopped nuts, or 1 cup diced apple and ½ tsp cinnamon.

Popovers don't keep long enough to be brought to work. They are steam-puffed and collapse soon if they're not eaten first thing. But they're wonderful dinner breads and not all that difficult to make. You need the right kind of baking pan and a very hot oven. You can experiment with them a bit; savory popovers with onion and dill are especially nice with seafood.

Perfect popovers

2 eggs
1 cup milk
1 cup sifted all-purpose flour
½ tsp salt
1 T salad oil

In mixing bowl, combine eggs, milk, flour and salt. Beat 1 ½ minutes with rotary or electric beater. Add salad oil; beat ½ minute. Don't overbeat. Fill 6 to 8 well-greased custard cups ½ full. Bake in very hot oven (475* F) for 15 minutes; reduce heat to moderate (350* F) and bake 25 to 30 minutes or until browned and firm. A few minutes before removing from oven, prick each popover with skewer or two-tined fork to let steam escape. For drier popovers, turn off oven and leave them in for 30 minutes, door ajar. Serve hot.

Happy Monday. Four weeks until we see cranes in the skies....

Cranes at sunrise.

Family recipe Monday: enchiladas

Sign photo courtesy of our friend Pat. It describes the past few days very well.

It's been a non-stop beginning to 2011, dealing with the aftermath of the water in the new building. In the midst of the hectic day yesterday, I received an envelope confirming my appointment as Interim Director of the museum. I had so hoped to be called Czarina, but I guess that's not on the state position roster.

To celebrate both the job title change and the fact that we survived three days of post-water aftermath with very little damage, our friend Pat made crayfish gumbo and I made pineapple upside-down skillet cake. They were both great comfort foods. The night before, we made venison chili stew, so our leftovers currently are unbelievable. Pat has headed back for Colorado and I am contemplating making a big pan of enchiladas to have on hand for the next few days.

Enchiladas are wonderful and as simple or as complicated as you want them to be. The Mexican saying "estas no son enchiladas" (these are not enchiladas) is used to describe anything that is not easy. As noted in the great discussion here, "enchilada" simply means "dipped in chili."

It seems as if every Texan has a version of this recipe. Because it is Texan, the enchiladas are rolled. In New Mexico, they are stacked. You can get into endless discussions about the pros and cons of each approach, which I will not do here. These are Texan. They are rolled. Not up for discussion.

Kerrville jalapeño chicken enchiladas

1 large stewing chicken
1 quart water
2 stalks celery, cut into 4” chunks
1 T salt
½ tsp. pepper
½ tsp. poultry seasoning

Put the chicken in a pan with the water, celery, and seasonings. Boil the chicken until tender. Remove chicken and set aside to cool. When cool enough to handle, Remove the meat from the bones and shred. Keep the dark and light meat separated. Make the sauce:

Jalapeño sauce

2 T salad oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
4 fresh green jalapeños, finely chopped
1 cup cooked shredded dark chicken meat
3/4 cup water
½ tsp. salt
Dash of pepper

Sauté the onion and jalapeños in the salad oil until tender (5-6 minutes). Add chicken and stir for about 2 minutes. Add water, salt and pepper. Simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Bring to a boil and remove from heat. Assemble the enchiladas using the following:

2 cups cooking oil
12 corn tortillas
3 cups of the remaining chicken
4-5 cups jalapeño sauce
1 cup grated cheddar cheese

Heat the oil in a skillet. One at a time, dip the tortillas into the oil for a few seconds, just enough to soften. Set each aside on a paper towel or platter. Spoon about 2 T of shredded chicken into the center of each tortilla. Cover the chicken with about 1 T of the sauce. Roll and place the enchiladas seam side down. When all the tortillas have been filled, place them in a baking pan, pour the remaining sauce over them, and top with cheese. Bake for 10-15 minutes in a 475* F oven or until the cheese has melted. Serve at once. Serves 6.

You can expand the recipe as needed, but don't forget the casserole law: one to have, one to share. This is a one-pot meal in itself and freezes beautifully.

Happy recipe Monday Tuesday. We're a bit late, but we got here, and it looks like we have survived the water crisis just fine.

Brontotheres on parade

Brontothere in the loading dock position

If you remember the saga of moving our brontothere family diorama, you'll remember that they are life-sized recreations of long-extinct rhinoceros-type creatures from what is now the White River Badlands. Beautiful, precise, and compelling sculptures....in plaster. Even though the plaster is molded over a frame, and they are thus hollow, they are still inordinately heavy, brittle, fragile and vulnerable. The brontotheres are on their ledge to stay for the foreseeable future.

But with a standard rhino taxidermy form (yes, these things are standard), expanding foam and tremendous talent (obviously not mine), it is possible to put a brontothere in the homecoming parade. Who'd'a thunk it? It was a beautiful October morning, and the brontothere had a nice ride through downtown with many fans cheering him on.

The hoist in the new building helped us get him onto a sturdy base.

Careful padding of the straps--he is made of foam, after all.

Note that he has his own banner.

Carefully releasing his feet....

....down he goes.

Much more secure. He is light enough to rock in a high wind, so this will help.

Ready to be loaded onto the trailer for his debut performance.

Pensive.

 

The crew gathers to get the brontothere on the trailer.

No, this is not our typical dress code. We had everything from grizzled oLd West field paleontologists to a Sparklesaurus in his retinue.

In place, strapped down and feet cushioned.

What a brontothere float looks like, finally.

 

He was the first float in the parade and has been asked for repeat performances in the upcoming months. Next challenge: name him!

A perfect week, part II: the Paleontology Research Laboratory opens

You may remember this....

We broke ground in April 2009 for a new paleontology building to house the collections, labs and offices of the Museum of Geology. For the next 16 months, we watched the hole being dug and then the building rising. We wore hard hats and slogged through the ice and mud to visit as it went up. We looked at it, and at our collections, and wondered if it would ever really be open. In June of this year, we started moving collections in.

On Wednesday, it became official. We cut the ribbon and dedicated the new Paleontology Research Center.

180 people crammed onto the plaza in front of the building, where we had seating for 75. (We TOLD them that there were a lot of people who had waited a long time for this....) The weather was perfect. The speeches were heartfelt. And the long, long journey to opening day was capped with a wonderful show.

Of course, now the real work begins, as we continue to move the collections as we develop new programs to take advantage of this rare opportunity. There is much to do. Today, however, we savor Wednesday's moments.

A good omen: a little Myotis bat joins the celebration.

Jim Martin: big guy, big scissors.

The Hoplophoneus skull plaque for the governor, prepared at the last minute. Beautifully.

Hard hats in April 2009...

...scissors in September 2010.

The poster for the event.

The crowd starts gathering.

The podium.

The dignitaries' chairs....

...and the dignitaries.

President Wharton speaks.

Jim Martin speaks and almost chokes up. He has worked tirelessly for this for 30 years.

Governor Mike Rounds speaks.

 Presentation of the plaque. Bet he doesn't have another one like this.

 MIchael Catches Enemy speaks eloquently on behalf of the Oglala Lakota.

3....2....1.... 

...and the ribbon is cut.  

 Stay tuned for interior shots....

Titanotheres, part III

Baby Emma at the beginning of her first move in 2009

Dad and Mom had been kept in storage for just over a year, because there was no place to put them. The baby brontothere, however, was newborn-brontothere-sized, small enough to move to the museum until the new building was ready. And so we did that, partly to protect her and partly to act as a spokesmodel for the new building plans.

The students were able to pick her up, load her into a truck, and carefully drive her to the museum. We did get a few phone calls from concerned citizens wondering just what kind of animal our students were driving around campus. At least one person flatly refused to believe that it was not alive and was strongly suggesting that we were mistreating livestock. I consider that another tribute, however inadvertent, to Blaschke's genius.

The baby is readied for moving.

 

Michelle and Red steady the baby on the freight elevator.

The baby is in the museum, ready to be lifted into the exhibit area.

We held a naming contest for the baby, open to school children in the area, complete with a coloring contest. The winning entry was "Emma," selected by three young ladies independently of each other. We kept promising people that Emma would be reunited with her parents when the new building was ready. We hoped that this would be done someday. When the day arrived, however, it was a little emotional on the museum floor when Emma left.

When Mom and Dad were in place, the crew picked up Emma at the museum and brought her over. 15 minutes after she was picked up, the reunion was complete.

Emma is taken off the freight elevator under Red's guidance, less than a year after the last time she was on it.

The forklift is maneuvered carefully under Emma.

Michelle leads Emma's entourage.

Emma enters the building. She never had to leave the forklift and rode serenely like a princess all the way.

The family is reunited, as we promised, as we hoped.

A huge sigh of relief can be heard even now, as all the equipment is gone and the Blaschke brontotheres are in place. Now comes the diorama work. Come see them in September! 

Titanotheres, part II

Meanwhile, back at the flatbed, Mom Brotothere is waiting patiently...

Moving Dad took a couple of hours. The crew who did this was absolutely magnificent. There was not a wrong or wasted motion, and at no time was he at undue risk. They are used to moving boilers amd machine-shop equipment, so I hope that this was a fun change of pace for them. Still, Dad is very tall, top-heavy, and not level on his feet by any means. It took a while to get him in position, safe and stable.

Mom was a much more calm and cooperative individual. Her only issue is that she is lying down and, er, a bit wide. There were concerns about fitting her through the door, which turned out to be groundless. 45 minutes after leaving the flatbed, she was in place.

Mom starts her forklift ride to the building.

Mom approaches, also with protection strips for her eyes.

Mom enters the atrium.

Mom is on the forklift for the last time. The paint chipping occurred some time ago, but we agreed to hold off on the repairs and infills until the move was complete. That has now been done.  

Mom is up at ledge level.

Reunited on the ledge.

To be continued.....