Monday, December 31, 2012
Summations, Prognostications, Summaries, and Resolutions
Good afternoon!
I have been thinking of changing my blog. I'd thought to go back to "The Grasshopper News," which I used to write on my word-processor days, duplicate, and send to my sisters via snail mail.
I thought to change over on January 1, 2013, but I can see by the clock that I am not ready to do it--considering how much maundering and blundering I'd have to do in order to accomplish the change.
Re: the subject of this posting. I can wait till tomorrow to do that. Perhaps I should have put, "Procrastinations" into the subject line as well.
As to big prognostications, I predict that California will have an earthquake of considerable size this year. It will most likely be in Southern California, since it's more our turn.
Perhaps our earthquake, Theo's and mine, will occur as part of a natural happening just on our very small scale. I no longer buy green bananas, as the wits say; logically, I do expect change will be part of our lives this year.
The social worker who came to see us thinks that we should go into a Home, one of those with cycles of care where you start out at the second floor, and gradually progress where you're at the basement where it's a short roll to the driveway door. We have talked about it and we don't want to do that. I am much too fond of eating my own cooking and choosing my own food, and staggering through my own piles of papers and books on the floor, and looking at the right place in the bookshelf and seeing an old friend there. Taterton is the same way; he is much too much of a curmudgeon to be attracted to a "Vegas Night" party at one Home who is trying to get clients in with that enticement.
I'd always thought to end my days in Brownsville, Texas, in a little Mexican house with or without paint on its exterior walls. Eating shrimp and drinking margaritas, as a brother in law once suggested for an ideal Brownsville menu. But we got too soon old and too late prepared, so that kind of move is not likely to happen. We don't know what will happen.
So, on the larger scale or the smaller, we anticipate change, and that reminds me: where's my I Ching? It's time. It's New Year's Eve! YAZZYBEL
Sunday, December 30, 2012
The Music of Love
Good afternoon! It's been and still is a gray, cold Sunday. It's been raining--what a blessing! Right now it's what's called "clearing," which it means it's a little brighter outside.
Off to church betimes this morning, and it was beautiful this morning in church. The light was brighter there because there were not many clouds over downtown San Diego at the time; and it was just light. And cold. And the Christmas wreaths and big red velvet bows were still cheerily up, and all the candles were lit for once.
I am thinking of light because I watched that movie about Vermeer (his maid, rather) as I took my nap. The whole movie is one big Vermeer painting and I love it for that.
I hate to apologize for my work, but this essay about the music of love isn't going to be a good one; that is, it's not going to say what I want to say.
That's because I don't yet know what I want to say, but I've been putting it off for time to think, and that time hasnt showed up yet after two weeks, so I'll just make a stab at it.
I was thinking of the beautiful Nachtmusik II of Mahler's Seventh Concerto, "andante amoroso." The first time I ever heard it, it stopped me in my tracks. I felt it as the most erotic piece of music I'd ever heard. What was it about that composition that captured so well the stirrings of erotic love?
Well, I have thought and listened and the more you listen and the more you think about it, the less you feel capable of describing anything about it. It's so complex and there are so many different feelings and sensations running through the lines.
Yes, at first, I was attracted to the most obvious device--which is like a quiver, a stabbing quiver, like a bee stinging, or like a man when he's at the apex of his climax....It accompanies an almost courtly, lighthearted humorous dance: a courtship dance. Courtship is meant for public consumption, no? It takes place out where society is functioning in its proper way. And then it takes place more privately, where it is called loveplay. And then that little swooning quiver which is at the heart of lovemaking...
But as I've listened more, I have noticed an almost sinister beat underlying the whole movement. Of course! The Creator of the Universe has to keep the whole thing going all the time. He cannot rest a minute. And He is relentless! That is the force that rears the crop of new young males in every generation. They will not be stopped...(for they are the agents of that Creator, though they aren't thinking in those terms.) Interesting. And very scary. Listen to it. Three times at least, and then again tomorrow. You'll get the idea. YAZZYBEL
Off to church betimes this morning, and it was beautiful this morning in church. The light was brighter there because there were not many clouds over downtown San Diego at the time; and it was just light. And cold. And the Christmas wreaths and big red velvet bows were still cheerily up, and all the candles were lit for once.
I am thinking of light because I watched that movie about Vermeer (his maid, rather) as I took my nap. The whole movie is one big Vermeer painting and I love it for that.
I hate to apologize for my work, but this essay about the music of love isn't going to be a good one; that is, it's not going to say what I want to say.
That's because I don't yet know what I want to say, but I've been putting it off for time to think, and that time hasnt showed up yet after two weeks, so I'll just make a stab at it.
I was thinking of the beautiful Nachtmusik II of Mahler's Seventh Concerto, "andante amoroso." The first time I ever heard it, it stopped me in my tracks. I felt it as the most erotic piece of music I'd ever heard. What was it about that composition that captured so well the stirrings of erotic love?
Well, I have thought and listened and the more you listen and the more you think about it, the less you feel capable of describing anything about it. It's so complex and there are so many different feelings and sensations running through the lines.
Yes, at first, I was attracted to the most obvious device--which is like a quiver, a stabbing quiver, like a bee stinging, or like a man when he's at the apex of his climax....It accompanies an almost courtly, lighthearted humorous dance: a courtship dance. Courtship is meant for public consumption, no? It takes place out where society is functioning in its proper way. And then it takes place more privately, where it is called loveplay. And then that little swooning quiver which is at the heart of lovemaking...
But as I've listened more, I have noticed an almost sinister beat underlying the whole movement. Of course! The Creator of the Universe has to keep the whole thing going all the time. He cannot rest a minute. And He is relentless! That is the force that rears the crop of new young males in every generation. They will not be stopped...(for they are the agents of that Creator, though they aren't thinking in those terms.) Interesting. And very scary. Listen to it. Three times at least, and then again tomorrow. You'll get the idea. YAZZYBEL
Saturday, December 22, 2012
How I Make My Bed Now
Good evening!
What a strange caption for a blog posting, no?
But there have been so many different subjects I've been meaning to write about this week....(The Music of Love, More about the Mass Shooting in Connecticut, and the good cookie recipe, amongst others) but it's hard to find the right quiet time in which to write. C'mon, I know, no excuses!
So I'll write about how I make my bed now. Since I am 83, I don't have all the strength in the world that I used to have. So I make the bed up in the easy way. It's quick, it's neat, and I am happy with it.
I don't like contour sheets any more. The mattresses have become so huge and fat that fitted sheets don't really fit them. New sheets are made extra large to fit these mattresses, but they don't really fit either, truth be told.
So, I use only flat sheets. I lay one sheet down for the bottom sheet, and smooth it out. I lay a second flat sheet down for the top sheet, and smooth it out. Blankets, puffers, and quilts go on top of all that. Easy to put on, easy to smooth out and rearrange if it's not wash day, and easy to take off if it is.
It's not too easy to buy just flat sheets unless you are paying top dollar at a good good store...you have to buy the proper 'set'....but too bad; I have foiled them by picking up odd king and queen sized flat sheets over the years, and just use those. Old sheets are smoother and softer, too. Not eerily soft like the new 'sateen' 600 thread count sheets; soft and smooth like cotton that's been washed and washed and washed and is still getting more comfortable.
That's how I make the bed now. No painful lifting of mammoth mattresses, no tucking of corners. No, the bottom sheet doesn't come loose. It was never un-loose to begin with. It was just smooth. And remains that way, in our tranquil elderly bed. Bonne nuit, everybody. YAZZYBEL
What a strange caption for a blog posting, no?
But there have been so many different subjects I've been meaning to write about this week....(The Music of Love, More about the Mass Shooting in Connecticut, and the good cookie recipe, amongst others) but it's hard to find the right quiet time in which to write. C'mon, I know, no excuses!
So I'll write about how I make my bed now. Since I am 83, I don't have all the strength in the world that I used to have. So I make the bed up in the easy way. It's quick, it's neat, and I am happy with it.
I don't like contour sheets any more. The mattresses have become so huge and fat that fitted sheets don't really fit them. New sheets are made extra large to fit these mattresses, but they don't really fit either, truth be told.
So, I use only flat sheets. I lay one sheet down for the bottom sheet, and smooth it out. I lay a second flat sheet down for the top sheet, and smooth it out. Blankets, puffers, and quilts go on top of all that. Easy to put on, easy to smooth out and rearrange if it's not wash day, and easy to take off if it is.
It's not too easy to buy just flat sheets unless you are paying top dollar at a good good store...you have to buy the proper 'set'....but too bad; I have foiled them by picking up odd king and queen sized flat sheets over the years, and just use those. Old sheets are smoother and softer, too. Not eerily soft like the new 'sateen' 600 thread count sheets; soft and smooth like cotton that's been washed and washed and washed and is still getting more comfortable.
That's how I make the bed now. No painful lifting of mammoth mattresses, no tucking of corners. No, the bottom sheet doesn't come loose. It was never un-loose to begin with. It was just smooth. And remains that way, in our tranquil elderly bed. Bonne nuit, everybody. YAZZYBEL
Monday, December 17, 2012
The Monday After
Good morning.
I've been trying to find the words to express my thoughts about Friday's tragical events. I haven't been able to find those words.
However, I have found two blogs where the writers have found all the right words. Please read them. Here they are.
www.anarchistsoccermom.blogspot.com
and
www.kunstler.com
These two writers, however vastly different their perspectives, are telling the truth about what happened on Friday in the United States of America. And it will happen again, because people are not serious about their lives...they are hiding their heads in the sand, saying, "Thank God, that's none of my business,"--saying, "God just lemme forget and it will go away....,"---
I had a son with "serious" mental illness. It was serious because he was miserable. Thank God, he never became violent to others. But God, why did he have to turn on himself? Why couldnt someone bigger and stronger than himself just SAT on him until his confusion passed?
The psychiatrists to whom we entrust ourselves have all made pacts with the devil. Even the best psychiatrists Gregory ever had ended up signing deals with pharmaceutical companies, whereby they ran little "groups" mainly dedicate to the application and study of the effects of a certain drug. To see how it all played out. In Greg's case it was tragic. I cannot bear to think about it even now. And there are too many doors between the parent/caregiver of this patient and the actual facility or doctor who's doing the "care." It's all screwy.
Please read the two blogs I have sent. Then think about it and tell the country via your emails and letters to the editor (if they still have them) to put forth your suggestions. YAZZYBEL
I've been trying to find the words to express my thoughts about Friday's tragical events. I haven't been able to find those words.
However, I have found two blogs where the writers have found all the right words. Please read them. Here they are.
www.anarchistsoccermom.blogspot.com
and
www.kunstler.com
These two writers, however vastly different their perspectives, are telling the truth about what happened on Friday in the United States of America. And it will happen again, because people are not serious about their lives...they are hiding their heads in the sand, saying, "Thank God, that's none of my business,"--saying, "God just lemme forget and it will go away....,"---
I had a son with "serious" mental illness. It was serious because he was miserable. Thank God, he never became violent to others. But God, why did he have to turn on himself? Why couldnt someone bigger and stronger than himself just SAT on him until his confusion passed?
The psychiatrists to whom we entrust ourselves have all made pacts with the devil. Even the best psychiatrists Gregory ever had ended up signing deals with pharmaceutical companies, whereby they ran little "groups" mainly dedicate to the application and study of the effects of a certain drug. To see how it all played out. In Greg's case it was tragic. I cannot bear to think about it even now. And there are too many doors between the parent/caregiver of this patient and the actual facility or doctor who's doing the "care." It's all screwy.
Please read the two blogs I have sent. Then think about it and tell the country via your emails and letters to the editor (if they still have them) to put forth your suggestions. YAZZYBEL
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Good Cookies, Dead Santas, Diets, and Sad News
Good evening. I'm told it's time to write a new posting, so will attempt to do so.
Already, I cannot put in the good cookie recipe because it's lost in a big stack that I don't want to go through right now.
So, on to the dead Santas. I hate those inflatable Santa Clauses....!! By night they may be prancing and pawing around the houses with their reindeer, but by day, when I am out and driving about in our town, those guys look as if they'd fallen where they are, dead drunk, and sleeping it off until nightfall. When, I assume, they'll rise again in glorious light and once more pretend to be okay. Whoever conceived that kind of stuff as an acceptable house decoration for Christmastime? House after house, yard after yard full of deflated plastic lying asprawl all over the place. I vote NO to dead Santas.
As to diet, I am losing some weight because I am trying to limit my fat intake to 3 grams per meal. That means if seven crackers gives me 3, I can eat one or two with impunity. And that's usually enough. I never thought I ate that much fat, actually. I have eschewed fried foods even at home, for years. I ate salad dressings as I wished because they were made with good olive oil, but apparently even olive oil can be quite fattening--or at least, fattening enough to keep you at the high weight you started with. But really avoiding fats seems to make a difference if you get serious enough about it. Ah, Dr Atkins. We had a good time while it lasted....
Of course, it was when I added carbs to Dr A's diet that the plaques formed in my veins. I have always had the theory that it is the mixture of fat and flour that thickened up the blood (i.e., cream gravy). The fat alone wouldn't do it. Good fat wouldn't....and I haven't used Crisco, etc. forever.
Now they say that coconut fat is the best, healthiest fat in the world...Yes, it probably is...but not for arteries already clogged up with residue. Diet is important, folks. So I am going to eschew fat (not chew it) until I get the good word from Above (Kaiser) that things have cleared up.
As for the sad news, you know what it is. I feel so for those parents and siblings who are having to deal with the absence of that bright little face around the table. They are going to have to go into the closet and dresser and fold up and give away those little clothes, and go into desk drawers and clear things out--for what? they will ask. Parents, cherish your children. Vexing little creatures they can be, but you are the grown ups. Cherish your children, and cherish your spouse, who can be the most vexing of all. He or she and the combination of the two of you is very important to your children. Some rifts do not heal; they fester and corrupt and ruin lives. Forgive your spouse and pray that he or she forgives you. Love each other. And may God have mercy on all of us. YAZZYBEL
Friday, December 7, 2012
A Delicious Vegan Dish
Good morning!
Here is a delicious vegan combo that evades all the overly sweet marshmallow-y aspects of sweet potatoes, while providing you with a filling and satistying 'main dish' for supper.
Bake a sweet potato or yam. I always forget which are which; I like them both. I think I bought a yam because it was quite red, but it could be the other way round.
As the yam bakes, cut into cubes:
green bell pepper
yellow bell pepper
red bed pepper
onion
tomato
Saute the above in a spray of oil until they are done. You must have green pepper because it has its tendency to be un-sweet and you don't want all sweetness in this dish!
I like hotness, so add something picante to the mix. This time I added cayenne pepper, one of my favorite tastes, to the vegetables, and a little bottled salsa (La Victoria). If you have fresh jalapenos so much the better, a little of those too.
This combo of semi-sweet peppers, hot peppers, and sweet potatoes is just delicious. I discovered it long ago when I added just the La Victoria. Now we try to get more fiber into our diets, so I like to play with lots of the real peppers.
ANOTHER TIP. If you live near a Safeway supermarket, go to the bread section. Safeway makes a number of breads in its in-house brand name, and they are all good and significantly cheaper than the name brands. Anyway, perhaps because it's Christmastime, they have a great loaf of Cranberry-Orange bread. I have just been looking for a raisin bread with NO horrible false cinnamon in it (impossible to find for me so far), and this Cranberry-Orange bread just fills the bill. For a treat, it's great with cream cheese (if you haven't had a heart attack!). For someone like me, it is fine with a spray or two of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray. YUM YUM> YAZZYBEL
Here is a delicious vegan combo that evades all the overly sweet marshmallow-y aspects of sweet potatoes, while providing you with a filling and satistying 'main dish' for supper.
Bake a sweet potato or yam. I always forget which are which; I like them both. I think I bought a yam because it was quite red, but it could be the other way round.
As the yam bakes, cut into cubes:
green bell pepper
yellow bell pepper
red bed pepper
onion
tomato
Saute the above in a spray of oil until they are done. You must have green pepper because it has its tendency to be un-sweet and you don't want all sweetness in this dish!
I like hotness, so add something picante to the mix. This time I added cayenne pepper, one of my favorite tastes, to the vegetables, and a little bottled salsa (La Victoria). If you have fresh jalapenos so much the better, a little of those too.
This combo of semi-sweet peppers, hot peppers, and sweet potatoes is just delicious. I discovered it long ago when I added just the La Victoria. Now we try to get more fiber into our diets, so I like to play with lots of the real peppers.
ANOTHER TIP. If you live near a Safeway supermarket, go to the bread section. Safeway makes a number of breads in its in-house brand name, and they are all good and significantly cheaper than the name brands. Anyway, perhaps because it's Christmastime, they have a great loaf of Cranberry-Orange bread. I have just been looking for a raisin bread with NO horrible false cinnamon in it (impossible to find for me so far), and this Cranberry-Orange bread just fills the bill. For a treat, it's great with cream cheese (if you haven't had a heart attack!). For someone like me, it is fine with a spray or two of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray. YUM YUM> YAZZYBEL
Monday, December 3, 2012
Thanks for Everything
Sometimes things happen just right.
As when I had my heart attack, and there were the Dr. and his team just finishing a procedure and ready for me to slide in right then and be next. How lucky can you be?
My favorite glasses, small, fragile, rimless, have been lost to me ever since I went out into the back yard with dearest Foxy, and the glasses fell out of my tee shirt where I'd stuck them, and went into limbo. I was and am sure that Foxy grabbed them and ran off with them, with who knows what danger infliced by his baby teeth...dropped them somewhere, that only he knew,--and forgot about them. I have looked for them again and again but went out once more today, peeking under flower pots and under yard debris...
I thought that I'd write to Ben this following: "Please ask Foxy Angus to tell me where the glasses are in a dream, and perhaps I'll get the message." I figured in a dream, because from his dreams to mine are the only way he and I can directly communicate. Or perhaps, I then thought, he will help me to just stumble across them.
Shortly I looked into a bed where I have looked several times before, and saw in the twilight (it's always twilight around here, or it just my eyes?) the thinnest glimmer of a line of metal....Couldn't be, I thought, but my wishes were stronger than my thoughts. I leant over into the dark planting bed and plucked out, unbelieving, my lost glasses.
Thank you, Lord! Thank you mind that received the message from unconscious little Foxy! I have been lucky beyond measure so many times. My wishes are granted to me and I thank you, Lord. Hallelujah!!! YAZZYBEL
As when I had my heart attack, and there were the Dr. and his team just finishing a procedure and ready for me to slide in right then and be next. How lucky can you be?
My favorite glasses, small, fragile, rimless, have been lost to me ever since I went out into the back yard with dearest Foxy, and the glasses fell out of my tee shirt where I'd stuck them, and went into limbo. I was and am sure that Foxy grabbed them and ran off with them, with who knows what danger infliced by his baby teeth...dropped them somewhere, that only he knew,--and forgot about them. I have looked for them again and again but went out once more today, peeking under flower pots and under yard debris...
I thought that I'd write to Ben this following: "Please ask Foxy Angus to tell me where the glasses are in a dream, and perhaps I'll get the message." I figured in a dream, because from his dreams to mine are the only way he and I can directly communicate. Or perhaps, I then thought, he will help me to just stumble across them.
Shortly I looked into a bed where I have looked several times before, and saw in the twilight (it's always twilight around here, or it just my eyes?) the thinnest glimmer of a line of metal....Couldn't be, I thought, but my wishes were stronger than my thoughts. I leant over into the dark planting bed and plucked out, unbelieving, my lost glasses.
Thank you, Lord! Thank you mind that received the message from unconscious little Foxy! I have been lucky beyond measure so many times. My wishes are granted to me and I thank you, Lord. Hallelujah!!! YAZZYBEL
Monday, November 26, 2012
Hasta La Vista, Dearest Little Foxy Angus
Hi, gentle reader (s)....
Thanksgiving is over. We went to Tucson to Brother in Law and Sister no. 3's lovely condo in Ventana Canyon. Everything was beautiful and perfect there as usual.
Brother in Law and Sister no. 5 were also present, and it was nice to have a good-sized group of family present.
Ben drove us over and it was nice to have him too!!! We took Foxy Angus and put him into the Sabino Canyon Pet Resort while we were there.
When we left Tucson, everyone went over to get a look at Foxy Angus, and to say goodbye to him too, for Ben was scheduled to take him home with him to his forever home in Northern California. Concord, to be exact. Theo and I were sorry to see Foxy go, but it had to be....we were not up to the demands of a young sprightly puppy and his training needs. Foxy is too good a dog to be let go like that---he needed a more youthful master who could keep up with his energy. I'm awfully glad that Ben loved Foxy from first glance, and vice versa. So Foxy will miss his old ma for a bit, but will come back to visit us with Ben in December a more mature and changed man. So will Ben, for that matter, LOL. Tout change. YAZZYBEL
Thanksgiving is over. We went to Tucson to Brother in Law and Sister no. 3's lovely condo in Ventana Canyon. Everything was beautiful and perfect there as usual.
Brother in Law and Sister no. 5 were also present, and it was nice to have a good-sized group of family present.
Ben drove us over and it was nice to have him too!!! We took Foxy Angus and put him into the Sabino Canyon Pet Resort while we were there.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Restored to Life
I always thought that was the most beautiful chapter heading in Dickens.
Restored to Life....and here I am.
I had a heart attack. I took it casually and spent my time on the way to the ER composing apologies in my head to the hospital people for taking up their time over a false alarm. I thought I was having some unusual asthma attacks, over the previous couple of weeks. Turned out, not.
In no time, protests on my part adroitly turned aside and my consent obtained by a clever doctor, I was on a table having a large tube shoved up my groin, and into my heart, where a skilled team worked together to find my clogged artery and place three stents.
It's all behind me now except for the recuperation which is not as automatic and easy as I'd of. Ben our son came right down here to take care of us for a week, thank God. It gave Theo a chance to adjust to a different role for me. And we had good food and I had plenty of rest. The only bad thing is that he did not take away dearest Foxy Angus, though he wants him and therefore FA cannot be tossed to the Humane Society. I have to keep him till Ben can take him.
I have decided to eat differently, but am appalled by the recommendations of Kaiser for post-coronary foods. Cereals, sweet fruits and juices, anything to divert one's mind from the lost oils and fats that are taken away. Somehow I know this is not the answer.
We decided to take the MOW again and the meals they have sent this week are just appalling. AWFUL. They need to re-conceptualize the idea of what trapped old folks need and want to eat. Here's a hint, bales of frozen little corn seeds and green peas are not it. Nor is "gourmet" cuisine with strange herbs therein. No, they need to think FOOD. As in meat and vegetables. With the occasional piece of cooky or cake. So I am saying bye to the MOW forever as of Monday, our last day before going over to Tucson for Thanksgiving with the relatives.
Anyway, I feel okay but not too good. I have had a lot of help so far but am going to have to figure out how to wing it on our own in a better and more satisfying way. So far I have decided to concentrate on sugar and triglycerides, as one can assume that the statins are taking care of the fats to the satisfaction of Kaiser the Great. So, no more sugar. Or, at least, to the 80% possibility. But I am going for none. None. No fruit at first, no milk, no concocted foods with hidden corn syrup in the vegetable soup...Just meat, fish, chicken, green vegetables, olive oil, lemons...I have done it before when I was on the Dr Atkins. I can do it now. Pray with me. I need to get well. YAZZYBEL
Restored to Life....and here I am.
I had a heart attack. I took it casually and spent my time on the way to the ER composing apologies in my head to the hospital people for taking up their time over a false alarm. I thought I was having some unusual asthma attacks, over the previous couple of weeks. Turned out, not.
In no time, protests on my part adroitly turned aside and my consent obtained by a clever doctor, I was on a table having a large tube shoved up my groin, and into my heart, where a skilled team worked together to find my clogged artery and place three stents.
It's all behind me now except for the recuperation which is not as automatic and easy as I'd of. Ben our son came right down here to take care of us for a week, thank God. It gave Theo a chance to adjust to a different role for me. And we had good food and I had plenty of rest. The only bad thing is that he did not take away dearest Foxy Angus, though he wants him and therefore FA cannot be tossed to the Humane Society. I have to keep him till Ben can take him.
I have decided to eat differently, but am appalled by the recommendations of Kaiser for post-coronary foods. Cereals, sweet fruits and juices, anything to divert one's mind from the lost oils and fats that are taken away. Somehow I know this is not the answer.
We decided to take the MOW again and the meals they have sent this week are just appalling. AWFUL. They need to re-conceptualize the idea of what trapped old folks need and want to eat. Here's a hint, bales of frozen little corn seeds and green peas are not it. Nor is "gourmet" cuisine with strange herbs therein. No, they need to think FOOD. As in meat and vegetables. With the occasional piece of cooky or cake. So I am saying bye to the MOW forever as of Monday, our last day before going over to Tucson for Thanksgiving with the relatives.
Anyway, I feel okay but not too good. I have had a lot of help so far but am going to have to figure out how to wing it on our own in a better and more satisfying way. So far I have decided to concentrate on sugar and triglycerides, as one can assume that the statins are taking care of the fats to the satisfaction of Kaiser the Great. So, no more sugar. Or, at least, to the 80% possibility. But I am going for none. None. No fruit at first, no milk, no concocted foods with hidden corn syrup in the vegetable soup...Just meat, fish, chicken, green vegetables, olive oil, lemons...I have done it before when I was on the Dr Atkins. I can do it now. Pray with me. I need to get well. YAZZYBEL
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Blogging is Hard
Today I wrote a long blog, a huge long paean to Foxy Angus and all his attributes.
And somehow I blew it away in one second.
Too bad. YAZZYBEL
And somehow I blew it away in one second.
Too bad. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Here's to Thrift Stores!!
No, I didn't get Foxy Angus at a thrift store, but I can't write about him every day!!
Foxy Angus, and here let us be done with the little critter for this post, is, I believe, mostly a wire-haired or broken-haired Jack Russell terrier. A neighbor came over last night and pointed out the jumping (which he'd just started; he really liked her) and of course there are the beauty parts of him that are Jack Russell...BUT he is not white; he is a uniform russet beige with white face and blaze. Oh he is so cute. Don't let get me started....
Back to thrift shops. The pleasure of shopping at a thrift shop is the thrill of the chase. Sometimes you go with a quite specific item in mind (like Foxy...oh, quit it) and there it is as if you'd ordered it up from the angels. Sometimes you just go in blank and there is a real treasure like the six Rosenthal plates I recently turned down even though they were only six bucks...why did I do it?
I was thinking about San Francisco this morning because I just found out that a worldly and chic friend of mine also likes to thrift-shop. (It's not a prediliction that you should confess broadly about). That made me think if SF as I first knew it in 1957. Just think what I could have found there, then. Makes me want to cry.
And we did buy a lot of things from Goodwill and the Salvation Army in Berkeley: our huge antique mahogany bed, our sofa and chair which were still the most comfy pieces of furniture I've ever owned, the hand painted rustic black dresser with wild flowers on it, the chair made of cow horns...most of these in fact all of them have gone by the wayside over the years. I'm sorry I let any of them go. They'd nowadays be found only in an antique shop if at all...And the many little wooden tables with fabulous California tile tops...five dollars here and there and there were plenty of them.
When we moved to Seattle in 1961, we discovered the St Vincent de Paul which was housed in several rough building along Lake Union, I believe. Running from one building to another was a paradise of "finding", from furniture to old glass coffee jars, which was a never failing source of pleasure and acquisition to us.
I still find thrift shopping to be a source of simple stress relief. You never know what you'll find. Everything is different. One beautiful goblet only, to be succeeded by a different beautiful goblet on the next set of shelves. I have a whole collection of them. To heck with sets, say I. I like my motley collection!
And books! Don't get me started on books! They are there. And different books too. Like the novel, Eucalyptus, by that Australian writer whose name I do not remember. A good, interesting novel that I 'd certainly never have read if I hadnt stumbled on it in a thrift shop.
Why just a couple of days ago I found just by passing by it and grabbing it off the hanger, the very jacket I'll be wearing on this chilly morning. Its silk, Chinese, padded, and it's pale green embroidered and appliqued with more pale green on outside, and it's lined with an iridescent blue lining. It's more tailored than it sounds and it will look good with my blue-gray-purple colored tee and brown-gray pants, at church. YAZZYBEL
Foxy Angus, and here let us be done with the little critter for this post, is, I believe, mostly a wire-haired or broken-haired Jack Russell terrier. A neighbor came over last night and pointed out the jumping (which he'd just started; he really liked her) and of course there are the beauty parts of him that are Jack Russell...BUT he is not white; he is a uniform russet beige with white face and blaze. Oh he is so cute. Don't let get me started....
Back to thrift shops. The pleasure of shopping at a thrift shop is the thrill of the chase. Sometimes you go with a quite specific item in mind (like Foxy...oh, quit it) and there it is as if you'd ordered it up from the angels. Sometimes you just go in blank and there is a real treasure like the six Rosenthal plates I recently turned down even though they were only six bucks...why did I do it?
I was thinking about San Francisco this morning because I just found out that a worldly and chic friend of mine also likes to thrift-shop. (It's not a prediliction that you should confess broadly about). That made me think if SF as I first knew it in 1957. Just think what I could have found there, then. Makes me want to cry.
And we did buy a lot of things from Goodwill and the Salvation Army in Berkeley: our huge antique mahogany bed, our sofa and chair which were still the most comfy pieces of furniture I've ever owned, the hand painted rustic black dresser with wild flowers on it, the chair made of cow horns...most of these in fact all of them have gone by the wayside over the years. I'm sorry I let any of them go. They'd nowadays be found only in an antique shop if at all...And the many little wooden tables with fabulous California tile tops...five dollars here and there and there were plenty of them.
When we moved to Seattle in 1961, we discovered the St Vincent de Paul which was housed in several rough building along Lake Union, I believe. Running from one building to another was a paradise of "finding", from furniture to old glass coffee jars, which was a never failing source of pleasure and acquisition to us.
I still find thrift shopping to be a source of simple stress relief. You never know what you'll find. Everything is different. One beautiful goblet only, to be succeeded by a different beautiful goblet on the next set of shelves. I have a whole collection of them. To heck with sets, say I. I like my motley collection!
And books! Don't get me started on books! They are there. And different books too. Like the novel, Eucalyptus, by that Australian writer whose name I do not remember. A good, interesting novel that I 'd certainly never have read if I hadnt stumbled on it in a thrift shop.
Why just a couple of days ago I found just by passing by it and grabbing it off the hanger, the very jacket I'll be wearing on this chilly morning. Its silk, Chinese, padded, and it's pale green embroidered and appliqued with more pale green on outside, and it's lined with an iridescent blue lining. It's more tailored than it sounds and it will look good with my blue-gray-purple colored tee and brown-gray pants, at church. YAZZYBEL
Friday, October 26, 2012
Little Dogs and Hot Cups of Tea
Moral of life's story is:
Little dogs are exhausting.
Cups of hot tea are cheering.
Cup of hot tea with a Brownsville, Texas, chile pequin in it!!
Is there anything more to say?
YAZZYBEL
Little dogs are exhausting.
Cups of hot tea are cheering.
Is there anything more to say?
YAZZYBEL
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Foxy Angus
His name is Foxy because of his precursor, the Fox seen on these pages last week, who ran in front to announce his coming.
That has happened to us before. One year we had an absolute deluge of wild animals come upon us before we were given Freckles, our grumpy oldish cat, who arrived as the cutest kitten I've ever met in my life.
Yesterday, the yard man told us that while he was as Home Depot, he came out of the store to find that somebody had put a puppy into the back of his gardening truck. He brought him in and we took him in. The puppy, not the gardener.
He is the cutest little thing you ever saw. I added Angus to his name because he looks like a little Scottish terrier with wiry hairs and that little squared muzzle which you can't tell in the photo.
Took him to the vet this morning. Vet Dr. Herron says he's part chihuahua and part terrier without a doubt. Ten, maybe twelve weeks old. I went for ten because he is really a big baby and has fear of the grass. That makes his birthday the 15th of August, which it now officially is.
Dr Herron examined him from head to toe and pronounced him a " very good little dog." Foxy got four shots and did not wince. He is on the sofa now with Theodore and is snoozing away.
Foxy also got a new pill called "Confortis", which kills fleas from within. It took me about five special "bites" of food before Foxy took down the pill. He is a chewer not a bolter, and every time he got to the pill he daintily spat it out. He finally ate it. It lasts a month and Foxy and I will be happy to see him cleared of fleas, which I hate.
This is the first animal I've ever had forever,without having Gregory here to love it and help care for it. I'll miss him sorely because he was so great with the pets and did a lot to help with them when they were little. Theo surprised me this morning by mentioning that he'd been thinking of Gregory since we got Foxy, so maybe Gregory knows we needed Foxy and helped him get to us. Or maybe it is just what Theo thinks: the yard man had the litter of puppies at his house, and just put out a sad story to get rid of them. Either way, Greg could have been involved. Am I crazy? Dead people can't get involved. Can they? (yes)
Our big problem is this. We can barely care for ourselves, much less train and raise a puppy. We are like the infamous old Brownsville couple who got to the place where they couldn't button each other's buttons... I want to give him to lively younger people who can do justice to him. But here he is for now, at least, and he sure is a darling. A Good Dog for sure. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Sunday Back from No-Church
Oh, how vexing.
Get up in the dark o'morn....it's raining! How exciting! And cold enough for a jacket.
So I don my rain cap (dark green with tiny blue and green sequins that look like rain!) my new non-faux fur jacket, my mid brownish gray pants, my mid navy-purple-gray tee, and my warm shoes and sox...and off I go to St Paul's....but even before I get there, the teeming hordes of people who are going to participate in one of the huge Walks in Balboa Park. These walks are all to the good; but they take every available parking space for blocks around. I finally stopped and yelled into the door to my friends Mary and Rick: "I'm going down to All Saints!" And I was...but when I got close to All Saints, there was a group of police herding people off to the west from Sixth Avenue....and after a couple more discouraged go-rounds I just gave up and drove home.
Now I am in my weekaday clothes (which look just like the others but are from Kmart). I have kept on my shoes, as I am training my feet a la cave-man back to real shoes from slides. Slides are a step up from flip flops, because they are beautiful, but they are still the same element on your feet: they do something strange to the muscles and maybe that's why I've been having so many foot problems the last few years. Anyway I am back into my everyday clothes, and Theo is still snoozing. I will make him wake up at nine o'clock just on the principle that people should get up in the morning if they can.
Especially diabetics.
I have a suggestion for St Paul's: If these interruptions are going to continue in the form of activities in the Park on a massive scale, why not offer a drive through Communion on these days? I got a program, but it would have been even better if they could have administered the Elements or at least a Holy Blessing. Something for the priests or the Chapter to think about!! YAZZYBEL
Get up in the dark o'morn....it's raining! How exciting! And cold enough for a jacket.
So I don my rain cap (dark green with tiny blue and green sequins that look like rain!) my new non-faux fur jacket, my mid brownish gray pants, my mid navy-purple-gray tee, and my warm shoes and sox...and off I go to St Paul's....but even before I get there, the teeming hordes of people who are going to participate in one of the huge Walks in Balboa Park. These walks are all to the good; but they take every available parking space for blocks around. I finally stopped and yelled into the door to my friends Mary and Rick: "I'm going down to All Saints!" And I was...but when I got close to All Saints, there was a group of police herding people off to the west from Sixth Avenue....and after a couple more discouraged go-rounds I just gave up and drove home.
Now I am in my weekaday clothes (which look just like the others but are from Kmart). I have kept on my shoes, as I am training my feet a la cave-man back to real shoes from slides. Slides are a step up from flip flops, because they are beautiful, but they are still the same element on your feet: they do something strange to the muscles and maybe that's why I've been having so many foot problems the last few years. Anyway I am back into my everyday clothes, and Theo is still snoozing. I will make him wake up at nine o'clock just on the principle that people should get up in the morning if they can.
Especially diabetics.
I have a suggestion for St Paul's: If these interruptions are going to continue in the form of activities in the Park on a massive scale, why not offer a drive through Communion on these days? I got a program, but it would have been even better if they could have administered the Elements or at least a Holy Blessing. Something for the priests or the Chapter to think about!! YAZZYBEL
Friday, October 19, 2012
Spanish Saying of the Week
Hi. I have a neat Spanish workbook and in the back there are many "dichos" or sayings...proverbs lofty and common...which are all interesting.
The translations are particularly interesting because often the images/words are nothing at all related to the actual words of the saying. They are meant to convey the real meaning behind the old saying.
This week's saying is not too different in Spanish or English: Con la cuchara que elijas, con esa comeras.
In English, we say: You have made your bed, now lie in it.
The first one uses spoons and eating to make the point, the second, a bed. I think they're both apropos as images, because they're both everyday things. And it is so true that upon the turn of a choice, sometimes made in pride or stubbornness or impractical optimism, lies the future of our lives from then on.
I was reminded of this in my own case as I talked to my son last night. Something he said made me think of a choice I made that brought me where I am today. But as I muddled over it all in my head before I fell asleep, (about five minutes), it seemed that each moment of 'choice' , as I isolated it, brought me further and further back in time so that I could not really say which "choice" was the very one that brought me to this day.
Interesting. Perhaps we are the chosen and are only imagining that we do the choosing....does it make sense? No. Entropy, that is what it is. A word I am only beginning to understand. That is why we shake our heads and say, "Lord help us!" Perhaps we think we're saying it lightly, but we are really not. Not at all. YAZZYBEL
The translations are particularly interesting because often the images/words are nothing at all related to the actual words of the saying. They are meant to convey the real meaning behind the old saying.
This week's saying is not too different in Spanish or English: Con la cuchara que elijas, con esa comeras.
In English, we say: You have made your bed, now lie in it.
The first one uses spoons and eating to make the point, the second, a bed. I think they're both apropos as images, because they're both everyday things. And it is so true that upon the turn of a choice, sometimes made in pride or stubbornness or impractical optimism, lies the future of our lives from then on.
I was reminded of this in my own case as I talked to my son last night. Something he said made me think of a choice I made that brought me where I am today. But as I muddled over it all in my head before I fell asleep, (about five minutes), it seemed that each moment of 'choice' , as I isolated it, brought me further and further back in time so that I could not really say which "choice" was the very one that brought me to this day.
Interesting. Perhaps we are the chosen and are only imagining that we do the choosing....does it make sense? No. Entropy, that is what it is. A word I am only beginning to understand. That is why we shake our heads and say, "Lord help us!" Perhaps we think we're saying it lightly, but we are really not. Not at all. YAZZYBEL
Monday, October 15, 2012
Autumn Wardrobe
I've been looking at clothes lately. At last, our season seems to be turning away from a very unusually hot summer toward a cool fall. We'll have maybe one more warm spell after this one we're experiencing now, but by Nov. 1 it will be time to set the furnace to Automatic for the morning chill...and fall and winter will be here.
My mangy summer clothes are lying about in piles here and there. I'll put away the short shorts and the white linen pants and a couple of tops, maybe two, maybe not. Easy to replace next summer. I'll put all the rest into a big bag and haul them off to the stand of the young man who represents Goodwill in this neighborhood, down at the corner of Telegraph and the Canyon shopping center. I'll haul them off quick, because if I don't I'll soon find reasons to hang onto them just to see if I need them....nope. Off they'll go.
So, today I went to the Ross Dress Por Mas and loaded up my cart with some fallish clothes. Here that means a dark grey lace tee shirt, a pale metallic gold tee shirt, a warm beige and grey 'fur' jacket made from a beast that never lived on land nor sea; a black ruffly top with sparkles, a turquoise colored sweater, a coral cotton tee with long sleeves, and 2 necklaces with faux turquoise stones...No skirt, alas. I wanted a skirt or two but they are hard to come by especially if you have hopes that they'll cover that portion of the anatomy called in the parlance of the day, "the butt." How short can skirts be? Very short I can tell you. I'll dig up my expensive dark gray wool jersey longish skirt to go with the black and gray stuff, and keep looking for another color to go with the gold/beige/brown stuff.
At Macy's I bought a vest of faux faux fur. That is, it's faux fur that isnt even supposed to really resemble fur..just fuzzy stuff. It is white and very pretty and makes me look like a snowball, I realized too late. But am keeping it; too tiring to go back to the M. and turn it in. And I got something else...oh yes, boots! Low low boots of strange tan stuff that looks like cow hide trimmed with white fleece...very cute. Mutton dressed as lamb, I am I am. That's me. YAZZYBEL
My mangy summer clothes are lying about in piles here and there. I'll put away the short shorts and the white linen pants and a couple of tops, maybe two, maybe not. Easy to replace next summer. I'll put all the rest into a big bag and haul them off to the stand of the young man who represents Goodwill in this neighborhood, down at the corner of Telegraph and the Canyon shopping center. I'll haul them off quick, because if I don't I'll soon find reasons to hang onto them just to see if I need them....nope. Off they'll go.
So, today I went to the Ross Dress Por Mas and loaded up my cart with some fallish clothes. Here that means a dark grey lace tee shirt, a pale metallic gold tee shirt, a warm beige and grey 'fur' jacket made from a beast that never lived on land nor sea; a black ruffly top with sparkles, a turquoise colored sweater, a coral cotton tee with long sleeves, and 2 necklaces with faux turquoise stones...No skirt, alas. I wanted a skirt or two but they are hard to come by especially if you have hopes that they'll cover that portion of the anatomy called in the parlance of the day, "the butt." How short can skirts be? Very short I can tell you. I'll dig up my expensive dark gray wool jersey longish skirt to go with the black and gray stuff, and keep looking for another color to go with the gold/beige/brown stuff.
At Macy's I bought a vest of faux faux fur. That is, it's faux fur that isnt even supposed to really resemble fur..just fuzzy stuff. It is white and very pretty and makes me look like a snowball, I realized too late. But am keeping it; too tiring to go back to the M. and turn it in. And I got something else...oh yes, boots! Low low boots of strange tan stuff that looks like cow hide trimmed with white fleece...very cute. Mutton dressed as lamb, I am I am. That's me. YAZZYBEL
Friday, October 12, 2012
Water all around us.....
Good day, it's Friday.
I have just been out walking in warm water. It does good things for your muscles, your balance, your equilibrium, and your strength. I did it for a couple of months before we went to Concord to visit Ben, but what with one thing and another I havent gone back until this week.
Walking in water is a strange experience. You stand there in a pool walking slowly back and forth, forwards, backwards, sideways, and you think, "What am I doin' here? I am not really doing anything. This is so simple that it doesn't seem like I am doing anything." However, you get out after a half hour (if you're wise) or forty five minutes (if you're crazy) and you come face to face with reality. Yes, you were doing something, and it was really tiring. Wow.
This noon we had a new visitor to our back yard. California pleasures include animals of all sorts. And here was today's visitor. Dang it, I can't grab him and put him here from my files....
He's a red fox...skinny, gray and red patchy hair, sharp fox face...I love him. He's never showed up before, but I have the feeling he lives very nearby.
Probably got rained out or good and damp in his earth nearby. There are several holes down in the lower forty. Maybe we'll have fox kittens someday. I'll need a new camera, though, and a better computer expertise to be able to manage the riches at my fingertips. YAZZYBEL
I have just been out walking in warm water. It does good things for your muscles, your balance, your equilibrium, and your strength. I did it for a couple of months before we went to Concord to visit Ben, but what with one thing and another I havent gone back until this week.
Walking in water is a strange experience. You stand there in a pool walking slowly back and forth, forwards, backwards, sideways, and you think, "What am I doin' here? I am not really doing anything. This is so simple that it doesn't seem like I am doing anything." However, you get out after a half hour (if you're wise) or forty five minutes (if you're crazy) and you come face to face with reality. Yes, you were doing something, and it was really tiring. Wow.
This noon we had a new visitor to our back yard. California pleasures include animals of all sorts. And here was today's visitor. Dang it, I can't grab him and put him here from my files....
He's a red fox...skinny, gray and red patchy hair, sharp fox face...I love him. He's never showed up before, but I have the feeling he lives very nearby.
Probably got rained out or good and damp in his earth nearby. There are several holes down in the lower forty. Maybe we'll have fox kittens someday. I'll need a new camera, though, and a better computer expertise to be able to manage the riches at my fingertips. YAZZYBEL
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Things Happen
Good morning.
And it is morning, and it is good.
Good is relative, now. And it is still good!
Things have change around here a lot. We are making major adjustments (not very well) to a more advanced stage of old age. A visiting nurse comes to see my errant hubby, who will jump up off the sofa and charge off in some direction just as if he still had complete control of his equilibrium. He doesn't, and he falls, of course. He often hits his head when that happens, and the doctors (sounds as if he's the president or a king, no?) have taken him off coumadin as it could cause him to bleed into his brain when he konks his head. He doesnt understand that and thinks it was the coumadin making him dizzy and so forth. Does it matter? Guess not.
My state is more prosaic. For some reason I inflamed my inflamed nerve in right lower back and spend several days immobilized in agony two weeks ago . Made me realize our vulnerability. Theo does a lot around here, but if I am down he is "out." He was not able to make the basic decisions concerning my care when I basically could not move. Next time, I'll have to get a nurse-caretaker. Kaiser doesn't understand why I couldn't dash into the Urgent Care or Walk In Clinic to get help. They don't understand that there are times that we need help but can't go out to get it for ourselves. That's when we most need it, actually.
On a stranger, lighter plane, ==do you remember my blog about hairdressers and our strange relationships with them? How they take us for granted, and we do the same for them? Well...when we got back from Concord, I called for an appointment with Don, and the shopowner said, "I'm sorry, Linda, but Don is not working here any more...," and I was just floored. I got an appointment with another guy whom I love but he does not do a "strong" job on my hair combing so I can't stay with him. First things first. So I decided to try going back to my old guy, Art. He's farther away, but not too terribly. About five minutes more.
Art and I re-united on a cautious basis. Now I have seen him twice, and I hope that this time the relationship sticks. Of course, if he moves...I'll have to go through the frantic process of trying to follow him because he never did tell me when he did before. But luckily he seems well placed where he is, and I hope we make it this time. I look forward to better cut hair, and better combed.
That reminds me that Don finally called me to tell me where he now is. He's a dear person and I dearly love him. But I'd already made up my mind. Carpe diem. The weights swing over and a different diem is dawning. (Mixed metaphor.) I seized Art and who knows what may come of it. He speaks machine-gun Spanish and with my hard of hearing issues now, it's hard to follow what he's saying. But we still have a lot in common, including a love of literature and films. He gave me tips of things I 'd love to watch. So we have that. But it is the hair that 's the main issue and I have great confidence in him on that score. YAZZYBEL
And it is morning, and it is good.
Good is relative, now. And it is still good!
Things have change around here a lot. We are making major adjustments (not very well) to a more advanced stage of old age. A visiting nurse comes to see my errant hubby, who will jump up off the sofa and charge off in some direction just as if he still had complete control of his equilibrium. He doesn't, and he falls, of course. He often hits his head when that happens, and the doctors (sounds as if he's the president or a king, no?) have taken him off coumadin as it could cause him to bleed into his brain when he konks his head. He doesnt understand that and thinks it was the coumadin making him dizzy and so forth. Does it matter? Guess not.
My state is more prosaic. For some reason I inflamed my inflamed nerve in right lower back and spend several days immobilized in agony two weeks ago . Made me realize our vulnerability. Theo does a lot around here, but if I am down he is "out." He was not able to make the basic decisions concerning my care when I basically could not move. Next time, I'll have to get a nurse-caretaker. Kaiser doesn't understand why I couldn't dash into the Urgent Care or Walk In Clinic to get help. They don't understand that there are times that we need help but can't go out to get it for ourselves. That's when we most need it, actually.
On a stranger, lighter plane, ==do you remember my blog about hairdressers and our strange relationships with them? How they take us for granted, and we do the same for them? Well...when we got back from Concord, I called for an appointment with Don, and the shopowner said, "I'm sorry, Linda, but Don is not working here any more...," and I was just floored. I got an appointment with another guy whom I love but he does not do a "strong" job on my hair combing so I can't stay with him. First things first. So I decided to try going back to my old guy, Art. He's farther away, but not too terribly. About five minutes more.
Art and I re-united on a cautious basis. Now I have seen him twice, and I hope that this time the relationship sticks. Of course, if he moves...I'll have to go through the frantic process of trying to follow him because he never did tell me when he did before. But luckily he seems well placed where he is, and I hope we make it this time. I look forward to better cut hair, and better combed.
That reminds me that Don finally called me to tell me where he now is. He's a dear person and I dearly love him. But I'd already made up my mind. Carpe diem. The weights swing over and a different diem is dawning. (Mixed metaphor.) I seized Art and who knows what may come of it. He speaks machine-gun Spanish and with my hard of hearing issues now, it's hard to follow what he's saying. But we still have a lot in common, including a love of literature and films. He gave me tips of things I 'd love to watch. So we have that. But it is the hair that 's the main issue and I have great confidence in him on that score. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, October 7, 2012
I May Wind this Down
Hi, it's been ages since I wrote.
I may wind this blog down. Not that many look at it, and nobody comments but one sister, no. five...
A friend of mine said she tried it but found it un-appealing (I think gossipy was her term). Sometimes I think honesty is not a virtue in a friend.
So, I am not incentivized to write, but will continue on with the blog until the end of the year.
If there's anything to say, which at this moment there is not.
Son Benjamin went to Dean and DeLuca yesterday in St Helena, and said he would not send me anything. Is that unbelieveable or what?
Oh, I am off on a breadless kick. There is so much written about concerning "gluten" and "gluten-free" foods. Wheat is the worst culprit, certainly so here in America. Plus it has the GMO components, so there are two reasons to eschew it. Long ago when I was on the Dr Atkins, I looked like a million bucks (OK, it was forty years ago!) and felt like a million bucks too. I ate no grain of any kind for a long time. So it occurred to me that one of the Atkins benefits, unconsidered by me at the time, might have been that I was eating no gluten. Hmmm. Belatedly she puts two and two together and gets--zero. Zero bread for a while. Zero flakes. Zero oatmeal :(....It will be hard to forego bread as Theo and I have been eating ever more of it with all these sandwiches we've been having out. And eating those grainy sugary little snack bars...and FEELING WORSE THAN I HAVE EVER IN MY LIFE.....so, I had sausage and eggs for breakfast and very delicious they were. And baked chicken breast for lunch is coming up. I gotta go to the store to invest in a lot of tuna fish, because tuna fish salad is filling and tasty. Can I stick to it? In a way, I have to. I have to try. YAZZYBEL
I may wind this blog down. Not that many look at it, and nobody comments but one sister, no. five...
A friend of mine said she tried it but found it un-appealing (I think gossipy was her term). Sometimes I think honesty is not a virtue in a friend.
So, I am not incentivized to write, but will continue on with the blog until the end of the year.
If there's anything to say, which at this moment there is not.
Son Benjamin went to Dean and DeLuca yesterday in St Helena, and said he would not send me anything. Is that unbelieveable or what?
Oh, I am off on a breadless kick. There is so much written about concerning "gluten" and "gluten-free" foods. Wheat is the worst culprit, certainly so here in America. Plus it has the GMO components, so there are two reasons to eschew it. Long ago when I was on the Dr Atkins, I looked like a million bucks (OK, it was forty years ago!) and felt like a million bucks too. I ate no grain of any kind for a long time. So it occurred to me that one of the Atkins benefits, unconsidered by me at the time, might have been that I was eating no gluten. Hmmm. Belatedly she puts two and two together and gets--zero. Zero bread for a while. Zero flakes. Zero oatmeal :(....It will be hard to forego bread as Theo and I have been eating ever more of it with all these sandwiches we've been having out. And eating those grainy sugary little snack bars...and FEELING WORSE THAN I HAVE EVER IN MY LIFE.....so, I had sausage and eggs for breakfast and very delicious they were. And baked chicken breast for lunch is coming up. I gotta go to the store to invest in a lot of tuna fish, because tuna fish salad is filling and tasty. Can I stick to it? In a way, I have to. I have to try. YAZZYBEL
Monday, October 1, 2012
It's Michaelmas!!
Actually, Michaelmas is at the end of September, and we've just joined October. But I've been thick, and didn't have the what-for to write anything.
I read a fine horoscope called "Risa's Stars," which comes out in the little Chula Vista newspaper, thrown free every Saturday (if you're lucky.) Risa is a very perceptive and sensitive and intelligent person who has a website, www.nightlightnews.com. Last Saturday she wrote a paean to St Michael. He comes with a sword to destroy evil (note Satan under his foot, above) and bring in cooperation, peace, work, joy, and the harvest. What more could we want? He is one of the very strongest saints in the Christian layout. Like an earl, rather than a mere count, shall we say. He's St Michael and All Angels, for he leads the good angels.
I am feeling better; that is, I am not in agony with an inflamed nerve in my lower back any more. I have been able to move around with some comfort since last Wednesday/Thursday. Now there is not a hint of that little diablo in there, unless I get tired, at which time he sends out a little Distant Early Warning: Watch out, sister. I am down for the moment but not out.
Ibuprofen was my St Michael this time. It works amazingly well, and I thank the sister who reminded me of it. Sometimes we forget the thing that works for us and the thing we most need.
I must close now, for my computer is on the fritz and about to toss me off. That's another big problem right now. Gotta work on these problems, but first I turn these over to St Michael for now. YAZZYBEL
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Home, and Down!!
Hello, gentle readers, I am sick.
Came home, went down, better now. Not ready to write much yet.
All our equipment from computer to cells to house phone to TV are in a bad way!! Constantly being thrown off the computer!!
All for now, YAZZYBEL the laid low
Came home, went down, better now. Not ready to write much yet.
All our equipment from computer to cells to house phone to TV are in a bad way!! Constantly being thrown off the computer!!
All for now, YAZZYBEL the laid low
Monday, September 17, 2012
In the Bay Area
Good morning.
It's Day Nine of being away from home, and I have not blogged until today.
I couldn't remember my password and was too lazy or busy to look it up.
I have done a lot of cooking since we came up here, and have enjoyed it. I do always enjoy cooking unless I am too tired. Haven't been tired here! Until at nine at night, when I crash.
We came for Ben's eye operation, which has passed and was successful. He went back to work today which was optional, so he must have felt like things are back to normal. (Or he couldn't abide the "Bickersons" any longer!)
Yesterday we went to eat in Sonoma at The Girl and the Fig. It was fun, but it's too established now. I'd have enjoyed it more in its newer days. The food was good. We went for brunch which is inexpensive, so the bill was not bad. We had several good things: Theo had Croque Monsieur, which was by far the "biggest" thing anyone got...a huge sandwich with bacon and egg and ham and a salad on the side of frisee with nice dressing. Benjamin had Confit of Duck with potatoes and etc. Also very nice. He ordered a tomato-watermelon tower as well, with feta cheese and a pleasant creamy dressing. I had chicken sausage with grits and chard. The chicken sausage wasn't very good; was hard and nothing to a real pork sausage which is the trouble with chicken sausages. But the meal was good, all things prepared well; unfortunately there was a garnish of bees and hornets over everything as we'd chosen to eat in the patio.
Beware of the patio if you're in bee country; they can take away some of the pleasure of eating outside for sure. And do not choose "outside" if there are more than two in your party and it's brunch time, (or any time, really)---the sun is going to be in somebody's eyes no matter what you do.
We weren't going to have desserts but chose two in spite of that: I had profiterolles which I shared with my spouse. I wanted to see what they thought was good bittersweet chocolate sauce and it was very good. And the pastry was a pleasant surprise, being crisper than I'd have expected. Ben thought they might have fried the cream puffs but I'd say they did not. The choux paste just came out kind of crisp. And Ben and several bees and hornets shared the port and fig ice cream, which came housed in a shallow thin little cooky, very pleasant. I said the cooky was like a fortune cooky; he said it wasn't. But it was, only very thin and flat with a saucer like curve.
We have loved and admired the hills all around, with the golden dried grass and the black oaks. How beautiful it is. How much more beautiful it was when Theo and I lived here as younger folks, with the little winding roads and the interlacing oak tree tunnels, and the happy cows on the dry grass hillsides, making their incredible terraces as they munch their way around a hill. Ben is able to find plenty of such places all about, but truly now most is all ruined by progress, by concrete, tacky housing, very tacky landscaping, stores, malls, and such. Well, what do you expect in fifty years? James H. Kunstler is right. We have really messed up the USA in those fifty years. The American mindset has been wrong; but it's about to be re-set at last, I think. The young will do it; they have eyes and brains. I hope. YAZZYBEL
It's Day Nine of being away from home, and I have not blogged until today.
I couldn't remember my password and was too lazy or busy to look it up.
I have done a lot of cooking since we came up here, and have enjoyed it. I do always enjoy cooking unless I am too tired. Haven't been tired here! Until at nine at night, when I crash.
We came for Ben's eye operation, which has passed and was successful. He went back to work today which was optional, so he must have felt like things are back to normal. (Or he couldn't abide the "Bickersons" any longer!)
Yesterday we went to eat in Sonoma at The Girl and the Fig. It was fun, but it's too established now. I'd have enjoyed it more in its newer days. The food was good. We went for brunch which is inexpensive, so the bill was not bad. We had several good things: Theo had Croque Monsieur, which was by far the "biggest" thing anyone got...a huge sandwich with bacon and egg and ham and a salad on the side of frisee with nice dressing. Benjamin had Confit of Duck with potatoes and etc. Also very nice. He ordered a tomato-watermelon tower as well, with feta cheese and a pleasant creamy dressing. I had chicken sausage with grits and chard. The chicken sausage wasn't very good; was hard and nothing to a real pork sausage which is the trouble with chicken sausages. But the meal was good, all things prepared well; unfortunately there was a garnish of bees and hornets over everything as we'd chosen to eat in the patio.
Beware of the patio if you're in bee country; they can take away some of the pleasure of eating outside for sure. And do not choose "outside" if there are more than two in your party and it's brunch time, (or any time, really)---the sun is going to be in somebody's eyes no matter what you do.
We weren't going to have desserts but chose two in spite of that: I had profiterolles which I shared with my spouse. I wanted to see what they thought was good bittersweet chocolate sauce and it was very good. And the pastry was a pleasant surprise, being crisper than I'd have expected. Ben thought they might have fried the cream puffs but I'd say they did not. The choux paste just came out kind of crisp. And Ben and several bees and hornets shared the port and fig ice cream, which came housed in a shallow thin little cooky, very pleasant. I said the cooky was like a fortune cooky; he said it wasn't. But it was, only very thin and flat with a saucer like curve.
We have loved and admired the hills all around, with the golden dried grass and the black oaks. How beautiful it is. How much more beautiful it was when Theo and I lived here as younger folks, with the little winding roads and the interlacing oak tree tunnels, and the happy cows on the dry grass hillsides, making their incredible terraces as they munch their way around a hill. Ben is able to find plenty of such places all about, but truly now most is all ruined by progress, by concrete, tacky housing, very tacky landscaping, stores, malls, and such. Well, what do you expect in fifty years? James H. Kunstler is right. We have really messed up the USA in those fifty years. The American mindset has been wrong; but it's about to be re-set at last, I think. The young will do it; they have eyes and brains. I hope. YAZZYBEL
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Farewell to the M.O.W.
Yes, as of this Monday we stopped taking the Meals on Wheels meal that we were receiving every week day since February. Will we resume our subscription? Yes, if I am ill and cannot cook.
I do get hungry. But Theo ended up eating most of the meals because he gets hungry too, and he wants a meal lots of times when I am happy with a salad, a small sandwich, or some other light offering.
Now I can review the meals as a whole, from afar, and I say the grade I give them as meals is about 2 out of 5. As meals. They are not delicious; the vegetables are all undercooked; the flavors are predictable and not all pleasant.
Particularly bad are the 'smoked' or 'barbeque' flavorings. I have never been a devotee of smoke flavoring as it's supposed to be so toxic, but there it is in the sauce and also in the pork 'meat' that comprises the 'riblets', yes, those very same riblets that are so reviled in the health food articles against McDonald's riblets. What are they? We may not want to know.
The 'Mexican' flavorings are also bad. They have that alien spice taste that I just hate in false Mexican food (like taco seasoning). What on earth is that stuff? Again, I do not want to know.
The Italian tastes are better...a pleasant tomato sauce graces most of the pasta dishes and I can eat it. There is very little taste of garlic but that may be by popular Anglo Saxon demand.(Shortly to change as the population has changed big time.)
And the short cooked vegetables are awful. They are terribly hard. Hard is tasteless. The lima beans which appear frequently as an addendum to corn (which is on practically every menu) are as hard as bullets. Some people hate the mealy texture of lima beans but it can't be made any better by not cooking them through. And rather watery mashed potatoes began appearing lately and they weren't good either. Spinach and greens, being undercooked, were better. Carrots--more pellets.
I ran out of room so had to edit this to eliminate spaces. Censored! and by the M.O.W! YAZZYBEL
I do get hungry. But Theo ended up eating most of the meals because he gets hungry too, and he wants a meal lots of times when I am happy with a salad, a small sandwich, or some other light offering.
Now I can review the meals as a whole, from afar, and I say the grade I give them as meals is about 2 out of 5. As meals. They are not delicious; the vegetables are all undercooked; the flavors are predictable and not all pleasant.
Particularly bad are the 'smoked' or 'barbeque' flavorings. I have never been a devotee of smoke flavoring as it's supposed to be so toxic, but there it is in the sauce and also in the pork 'meat' that comprises the 'riblets', yes, those very same riblets that are so reviled in the health food articles against McDonald's riblets. What are they? We may not want to know.
The 'Mexican' flavorings are also bad. They have that alien spice taste that I just hate in false Mexican food (like taco seasoning). What on earth is that stuff? Again, I do not want to know.
The Italian tastes are better...a pleasant tomato sauce graces most of the pasta dishes and I can eat it. There is very little taste of garlic but that may be by popular Anglo Saxon demand.(Shortly to change as the population has changed big time.)
And the short cooked vegetables are awful. They are terribly hard. Hard is tasteless. The lima beans which appear frequently as an addendum to corn (which is on practically every menu) are as hard as bullets. Some people hate the mealy texture of lima beans but it can't be made any better by not cooking them through. And rather watery mashed potatoes began appearing lately and they weren't good either. Spinach and greens, being undercooked, were better. Carrots--more pellets.
I ran out of room so had to edit this to eliminate spaces. Censored! and by the M.O.W! YAZZYBEL
Monday, September 3, 2012
No White After Labor Day
Oh dear. That was the old-fashioned rule. I think it came from NY City, where fashions came from and they needed to drum up a fall trade.
Over here in SoCal, our warmest two months are coming up. A lady in church yesterday had on a sleeveless frock of white eyelet lace, no sleeves, loose, short, trimmed with a ruffle or two; a perfect dress for those who have good arms.
What to wear in August and September were always great preoccupations in the fashion papers when I was a girl in Texas. The perfect solution came up from Frost's in San Antonio, one August when I was about nineteen or twenty. There was no air conditioning, remember. Ladies had to look neat, cool and perfect at all times. The perfect solution for August/September was: a black chiffon dress, keeping the coolness of summer clothing, and a big black velvet hat that hinted at fall. Black high heels of course. I had the dress and I had the hat. And the high heels. I looked good at church. Those were Grace Kelly in Rear Window sorts of clothes, and everyone aspired to them. Graceful, beautiful, even in a cheaper line.
Now it's Labor Day. Fewer people are worrying about too much work and more are worrying about too little. Hardly any women are worrying about what to wear after Labor Day, because they know they'll be wearing whatever they wear for work every other day, adapted for the temperature. Times have changed.
I have a box and am packing away summer clothes, irrational though that is. Something in me tells me it's time, even though I know that cool weather won't come here until Nov. 1, and that it is going to be Hot as Hades in my mother's vernacular up in the East Bay Area of CA to which we are going next week. What to do? Am I silly? Worrying about clothes? YAZZYBEL
Over here in SoCal, our warmest two months are coming up. A lady in church yesterday had on a sleeveless frock of white eyelet lace, no sleeves, loose, short, trimmed with a ruffle or two; a perfect dress for those who have good arms.
What to wear in August and September were always great preoccupations in the fashion papers when I was a girl in Texas. The perfect solution came up from Frost's in San Antonio, one August when I was about nineteen or twenty. There was no air conditioning, remember. Ladies had to look neat, cool and perfect at all times. The perfect solution for August/September was: a black chiffon dress, keeping the coolness of summer clothing, and a big black velvet hat that hinted at fall. Black high heels of course. I had the dress and I had the hat. And the high heels. I looked good at church. Those were Grace Kelly in Rear Window sorts of clothes, and everyone aspired to them. Graceful, beautiful, even in a cheaper line.
Now it's Labor Day. Fewer people are worrying about too much work and more are worrying about too little. Hardly any women are worrying about what to wear after Labor Day, because they know they'll be wearing whatever they wear for work every other day, adapted for the temperature. Times have changed.
I have a box and am packing away summer clothes, irrational though that is. Something in me tells me it's time, even though I know that cool weather won't come here until Nov. 1, and that it is going to be Hot as Hades in my mother's vernacular up in the East Bay Area of CA to which we are going next week. What to do? Am I silly? Worrying about clothes? YAZZYBEL
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Via Lago Gets a Thumbs Up
Last night it was just too hot to cook, so we went to Via Lago, out in Eastlake environs in Chula Vista. It's somewhere between Ralph's corner on E. H St at Southwestern College, and E. L street where the Lowe's is. Up in there there's a nice little shopping center of the Tuscan Village type, with a Trader Joe's and a Sprouts and a TJ Maxxx and various other places to shop and eat. Via Lago is in there. It is a branch of Busalacchi's of old that we knew in Hillcrest when we were young.
It's a pretty and a very nice restaurant with a professional staff and plenty of comfort and good food. We expected something good and we were not disappointed. Theo, with his hollow space where a tooth was removed the day before, was foredestined to have spaghetti and not much else, and that is what he had. I opted for the saltimbocco, which were very small tiny escalopes of beef or veal in a delicious gravy. There were four of them. And there was a side of quite a bit of ravioli with fresh tomato/rosemary sauce. There was spinach with the meat. It was all very tasty and delicious. I had a huge goblet of delicious chianti for about seven fifty. The cost of that food was fifty dollars plus a tip of ten dollars. If we had had salads or desserts the price of the meal would have doubled or tripled. Fortunately we are old and cannot eat much more than we got. As it is, we each brought home half our dinners, and traded off today and I got the spaghetti and he got 2 escalopes plus ravioli...we were both pleased. So our dinner was really two meals for 50 dollars,==a dinner and a lunch the following day for two people.
The main point is that it was delicious, well prepared food, served with care by people who knew what they were doing. Grade: A. I only wish I had the appetites and capacities of a person in her twenties who could have appreciated the salad and the dessert along with the rest of the meal. And they had some good sounding appetizers, too. I'd like the mushroom crepe, on a winter's evening sometime. Oh, and they served a pretty good peasant bread with oil and balsamic vinegar to keep us calm till the food arrived. YAZZYBEL
It's a pretty and a very nice restaurant with a professional staff and plenty of comfort and good food. We expected something good and we were not disappointed. Theo, with his hollow space where a tooth was removed the day before, was foredestined to have spaghetti and not much else, and that is what he had. I opted for the saltimbocco, which were very small tiny escalopes of beef or veal in a delicious gravy. There were four of them. And there was a side of quite a bit of ravioli with fresh tomato/rosemary sauce. There was spinach with the meat. It was all very tasty and delicious. I had a huge goblet of delicious chianti for about seven fifty. The cost of that food was fifty dollars plus a tip of ten dollars. If we had had salads or desserts the price of the meal would have doubled or tripled. Fortunately we are old and cannot eat much more than we got. As it is, we each brought home half our dinners, and traded off today and I got the spaghetti and he got 2 escalopes plus ravioli...we were both pleased. So our dinner was really two meals for 50 dollars,==a dinner and a lunch the following day for two people.
The main point is that it was delicious, well prepared food, served with care by people who knew what they were doing. Grade: A. I only wish I had the appetites and capacities of a person in her twenties who could have appreciated the salad and the dessert along with the rest of the meal. And they had some good sounding appetizers, too. I'd like the mushroom crepe, on a winter's evening sometime. Oh, and they served a pretty good peasant bread with oil and balsamic vinegar to keep us calm till the food arrived. YAZZYBEL
Saturday, September 1, 2012
The Republican Convention
Good evenin'.
Guess I'd better write a word about the Republican Convention (now over). Everyone else has.
I did not watch every moment. Let me say that I am a Democrat with Maoist leanings. We'll get that out of the way first.
The Maoist leanings mean that I don't wholly believe in the power of the ballot box to make the changes that are needed in our world.
In another way, I am quite conservative. I was brought up not to throw money down a rat hole. And I was brought up to believe that it's wrong to go into debt, to borrow when you have not a snowball's chance of repaying, and it's wrong to deceive people about money, to accept bribes, and wrong to steal. So you can see that on that measure I have no place at all in any currently operative US political party (de facto) and its ideas of how to run our country.
I watched most of the Republican Convention watching that I did in the company of my afternoon pals of MSNBC. Chris Matthews particularly has me heart, the sweetie. His flaws are just those flaws that have me able to tolerate his company for long periods of time on end. He can laugh at himself with the same innocent charm that bursts out of nowhere that was shown by the lamented Patrick Buchanan, whom I also loved, though he is now relegated to Sheol by the networks for saying his race is the best and his culture is the best.
Enough of those mixed up conservatives and makeshift liberals, though. Let's get to the convention. I felt sorry for Sarah Palin, who obviously got the shaft, however much she might deserve it. I was impressed by the speechwriter of Paul Ryan, a person named Scully, I believe....very very very good. Ryan presented his speech very well and used his mother to best advantage as did others in the speeches with their own poor old worn out mums.
I missed most of Clint Eastwood's speech, apparently fortunately, as no one has any good thing to say about it. Well, that is the way it is when you are eighty two. No one expects anything decent of you and you generally live up to expectations quite well.
I would not listen to Anne Romney as she spoke about MS and I have a deep fear of neuromuscular diseases. I would not listen to Condi Rice as I remember her going out and buying tons of shoes on the day of Nine Eleven, and she irks me mightily with her precise talk and her hints of pianistic superiority. And I keep thinking of her working out with George W. in the White House every day in their spare time. My mind runs wild though I won't desecrate these pages with wild thoughts.
So, it came to an end. I enjoyed watching all those precious little blond kids romping all over the stage...it almost seems right that they are going to inherit the earth. Oh, and I could not stand Marco Rubio. Don't know why; I just don't like him. There was some else there...he gave a big speech too....funny, I can't quite pinpoint who is. ;)
Anyway the Dems come onstage on Tuesday. I'll probably talk about them too but with greater difficulty as my level of invested hope and disappointed change is much greater there, with my own registered party. YAZZYBEL
Guess I'd better write a word about the Republican Convention (now over). Everyone else has.
I did not watch every moment. Let me say that I am a Democrat with Maoist leanings. We'll get that out of the way first.
The Maoist leanings mean that I don't wholly believe in the power of the ballot box to make the changes that are needed in our world.
In another way, I am quite conservative. I was brought up not to throw money down a rat hole. And I was brought up to believe that it's wrong to go into debt, to borrow when you have not a snowball's chance of repaying, and it's wrong to deceive people about money, to accept bribes, and wrong to steal. So you can see that on that measure I have no place at all in any currently operative US political party (de facto) and its ideas of how to run our country.
I watched most of the Republican Convention watching that I did in the company of my afternoon pals of MSNBC. Chris Matthews particularly has me heart, the sweetie. His flaws are just those flaws that have me able to tolerate his company for long periods of time on end. He can laugh at himself with the same innocent charm that bursts out of nowhere that was shown by the lamented Patrick Buchanan, whom I also loved, though he is now relegated to Sheol by the networks for saying his race is the best and his culture is the best.
Enough of those mixed up conservatives and makeshift liberals, though. Let's get to the convention. I felt sorry for Sarah Palin, who obviously got the shaft, however much she might deserve it. I was impressed by the speechwriter of Paul Ryan, a person named Scully, I believe....very very very good. Ryan presented his speech very well and used his mother to best advantage as did others in the speeches with their own poor old worn out mums.
I missed most of Clint Eastwood's speech, apparently fortunately, as no one has any good thing to say about it. Well, that is the way it is when you are eighty two. No one expects anything decent of you and you generally live up to expectations quite well.
I would not listen to Anne Romney as she spoke about MS and I have a deep fear of neuromuscular diseases. I would not listen to Condi Rice as I remember her going out and buying tons of shoes on the day of Nine Eleven, and she irks me mightily with her precise talk and her hints of pianistic superiority. And I keep thinking of her working out with George W. in the White House every day in their spare time. My mind runs wild though I won't desecrate these pages with wild thoughts.
So, it came to an end. I enjoyed watching all those precious little blond kids romping all over the stage...it almost seems right that they are going to inherit the earth. Oh, and I could not stand Marco Rubio. Don't know why; I just don't like him. There was some else there...he gave a big speech too....funny, I can't quite pinpoint who is. ;)
Anyway the Dems come onstage on Tuesday. I'll probably talk about them too but with greater difficulty as my level of invested hope and disappointed change is much greater there, with my own registered party. YAZZYBEL
How Kind a Dentist
Yesterday my husband had to go see a strange oral surgeon. This was due to his dragging his heels on a crown, not wanting to pay the big price of $1200. Who could blame him?
But in the meantime he got an infection that went up above the roots, so he and his dentist agreed that he should have it pulled and he was sent to an oral surgeon.
We knew not whom we'd find, but Dr Mowry of Chula Vista could not have been surpassed as a person of compassion and intelligence. He put up patiently with our semi-senile maunderings in response to their medical questions. When we'd explored all the hurdles to a prompt ending to the situation with a quick tooth-pull, Theo got the quick tooth-pull.
It was five p.m. after a tiring afternoon, and we got the prescriptions filled at Kaiser and were home before six. Dr Mowry's office staff were a group of intelligent, quick and very sympathetic young Asian women. They all, the surgeon included, could n't have been more supportive and efficient. We were gratified.
Theo got some Tylenol with Codeine and I bought some plain Tylenol as well as I was out. I made him take a plain Tylenol last night before bed, but he has had no discomfort at all. It's a miracle. Thanks to God and a big thanks to a good dentist. YAZZYBEL
But in the meantime he got an infection that went up above the roots, so he and his dentist agreed that he should have it pulled and he was sent to an oral surgeon.
We knew not whom we'd find, but Dr Mowry of Chula Vista could not have been surpassed as a person of compassion and intelligence. He put up patiently with our semi-senile maunderings in response to their medical questions. When we'd explored all the hurdles to a prompt ending to the situation with a quick tooth-pull, Theo got the quick tooth-pull.
It was five p.m. after a tiring afternoon, and we got the prescriptions filled at Kaiser and were home before six. Dr Mowry's office staff were a group of intelligent, quick and very sympathetic young Asian women. They all, the surgeon included, could n't have been more supportive and efficient. We were gratified.
Theo got some Tylenol with Codeine and I bought some plain Tylenol as well as I was out. I made him take a plain Tylenol last night before bed, but he has had no discomfort at all. It's a miracle. Thanks to God and a big thanks to a good dentist. YAZZYBEL
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Stranded on the Moon
Good afternoon. We are watching the Republican Convention, via the auspices of MSNBC.....
It is a long afternoon. Thank goodness the television is working.
Mr. N took the car in to be fixed this morning. Patricia was going to be late to play, so I got a few things done around the house. Nice to be alone for a bit.
Then Theo came home, dropped off by a car from the Witt Lincoln place. Plunk. "Where is the loaner car? " asked I. "There is no loaner car; they will come and get me," was the lofty response from my liege. Oh dear.
Patricia came and we played worse than we have ever ever played before. Clinkers right and left. Why was this, I wonder? I mean, I know I am losing it, but P. isn't, and she hit a few clangers too.
She leaves tomorrow for a Michigan vacation and I guess she needs it, LOL. Pat this is a test to see if you read this.
NOW, Witt Lincoln has called to say that they will be picking us up tomorrow afternoon. TOMORROW AFTERNOON!!!! We are stranded on the moon. I cannot go walk in warm water this afternoon as was my plan. I cannot go to my exercise class tomorrow afternoon as was my plan. What is this?
Oh well, that leaves me to the computer and as luck would have it, the sisters are all on the outs and are leaving the round robin (collective emails) faster than you can say Mitt Romney. Or even Barack Obama. Nobody will write. We all have a beautiful new little great-niece to love and admire from afar, so soon I hope for repair to the information superhighway of our familial ties.
In the meantime, I have virtually nothing to eat. I gave Patricia a great salad with lots of baby wild greens (from a bag) combined with minced figs and sliced nectarines. Oh how yummy. I gave her a soup made of chicken broth added to the leftovers from the chicken-noodle-rice side dish.....and it was pretty good. We had thin crispy bread sticks with hummus. And the cupboard is bare!! I was going to insist on a trip to the supermarket this afternoon. As luck would have it, there's a ground beef patty waiting for mein mann in the refrigerator and plenty of cheese to put on top of it. That's what he likes. And I--there are lots of corn tortillas (aging), and I will have a quesadilla with some more of that field salad thrown into it. It will all be good, here on the Moon. YAZZYBEL
It is a long afternoon. Thank goodness the television is working.
Mr. N took the car in to be fixed this morning. Patricia was going to be late to play, so I got a few things done around the house. Nice to be alone for a bit.
Then Theo came home, dropped off by a car from the Witt Lincoln place. Plunk. "Where is the loaner car? " asked I. "There is no loaner car; they will come and get me," was the lofty response from my liege. Oh dear.
Patricia came and we played worse than we have ever ever played before. Clinkers right and left. Why was this, I wonder? I mean, I know I am losing it, but P. isn't, and she hit a few clangers too.
She leaves tomorrow for a Michigan vacation and I guess she needs it, LOL. Pat this is a test to see if you read this.
NOW, Witt Lincoln has called to say that they will be picking us up tomorrow afternoon. TOMORROW AFTERNOON!!!! We are stranded on the moon. I cannot go walk in warm water this afternoon as was my plan. I cannot go to my exercise class tomorrow afternoon as was my plan. What is this?
Oh well, that leaves me to the computer and as luck would have it, the sisters are all on the outs and are leaving the round robin (collective emails) faster than you can say Mitt Romney. Or even Barack Obama. Nobody will write. We all have a beautiful new little great-niece to love and admire from afar, so soon I hope for repair to the information superhighway of our familial ties.
In the meantime, I have virtually nothing to eat. I gave Patricia a great salad with lots of baby wild greens (from a bag) combined with minced figs and sliced nectarines. Oh how yummy. I gave her a soup made of chicken broth added to the leftovers from the chicken-noodle-rice side dish.....and it was pretty good. We had thin crispy bread sticks with hummus. And the cupboard is bare!! I was going to insist on a trip to the supermarket this afternoon. As luck would have it, there's a ground beef patty waiting for mein mann in the refrigerator and plenty of cheese to put on top of it. That's what he likes. And I--there are lots of corn tortillas (aging), and I will have a quesadilla with some more of that field salad thrown into it. It will all be good, here on the Moon. YAZZYBEL
A Philosophical Question
Good morning.
This morning, I only want to ask: Is the pleasure one gets from having a Katy Kornette worth the damage it does to one's body? (supposedly)
I had a nice breakfast of one piece of bacon, a bird egg's worth of egg, and 2 small Katy Kornettes. Very delicious!!!
I eat the one piece of bacon sometimes on Wednesdays but always on Saturday, at breakfast.
And have decided on the one bird egg's worth of egg to be my portion, as when my ancestors were wandering through the woods I would have been lucky to even get one bird egg as my share, with all the men grabbing the nest and hogging down the contents. If they'd had an extra egg it would have gone to some nubile young gal anyway; an eighty three year old would just have to lag behind and try to dig up a wild turnip.
That turnip reference is, of course, to God's Little Acre, where that poor old grandma is literally starving, crawling around on the ground looking for a portion of turnip someone dropped. I think of her often, nowadays, as I try to stay realistic about my place in the universe as a senior citizen. YAZZYBEL
This morning, I only want to ask: Is the pleasure one gets from having a Katy Kornette worth the damage it does to one's body? (supposedly)
I had a nice breakfast of one piece of bacon, a bird egg's worth of egg, and 2 small Katy Kornettes. Very delicious!!!
I eat the one piece of bacon sometimes on Wednesdays but always on Saturday, at breakfast.
And have decided on the one bird egg's worth of egg to be my portion, as when my ancestors were wandering through the woods I would have been lucky to even get one bird egg as my share, with all the men grabbing the nest and hogging down the contents. If they'd had an extra egg it would have gone to some nubile young gal anyway; an eighty three year old would just have to lag behind and try to dig up a wild turnip.
That turnip reference is, of course, to God's Little Acre, where that poor old grandma is literally starving, crawling around on the ground looking for a portion of turnip someone dropped. I think of her often, nowadays, as I try to stay realistic about my place in the universe as a senior citizen. YAZZYBEL
Monday, August 27, 2012
Remembering Gregory Neff
Good afternoon.
This is the eighth anniversary of the death of Gregory. It is his official date of death, although he died about ten or so, the night before. It took hours to get the proper people here to have him declared deceased. So this is the date.
I was asleep in the room at the time he actually breathed his last, just a couple of feet away. He had asked me not to go to sleep but I was anticipating a full day of work the next day, and we had two nurses with us. I told him I had to rest and would see him in the morning. I think he knew that I would not.
I'd scarcely fallen asleep on the sofa, there, when one of the nurses, said, "Ma'm, wake up. I think he has passed. He is not breathing."
Indeed, it was true. He was not breathing. We listened for his breath, for his heart. Nothing. His body had shut down.
It was time. His body had had a long travail, and of the travails of his spirit I can hardly think. It was time; God said so.
We took his ashes to Texas first, but when it became apparent to me that Theodore had no intention of ever moving from here, we had his ashes sent back here and they lie encrypted in the back wall of St Paul's Cathedral, near the main aisle and the font, and underneath the Rose Window. I think Gregory would have liked that as a final resting place.
I wonder, why did he live, and why did he die? Which leads to the question for all of us. Why do we live, and why do we die? What lives, and what dies? What remains? I like the idea that his breath was drawn back into the great breath of Watan Tanka, the great creator. "Gregory is with God," said our Episcopal priest, when I wondered back then eight years ago....For us here on Earth, there remain precious memories, that's for sure. YAZZYBEL
This is the eighth anniversary of the death of Gregory. It is his official date of death, although he died about ten or so, the night before. It took hours to get the proper people here to have him declared deceased. So this is the date.
I was asleep in the room at the time he actually breathed his last, just a couple of feet away. He had asked me not to go to sleep but I was anticipating a full day of work the next day, and we had two nurses with us. I told him I had to rest and would see him in the morning. I think he knew that I would not.
I'd scarcely fallen asleep on the sofa, there, when one of the nurses, said, "Ma'm, wake up. I think he has passed. He is not breathing."
Indeed, it was true. He was not breathing. We listened for his breath, for his heart. Nothing. His body had shut down.
It was time. His body had had a long travail, and of the travails of his spirit I can hardly think. It was time; God said so.
We took his ashes to Texas first, but when it became apparent to me that Theodore had no intention of ever moving from here, we had his ashes sent back here and they lie encrypted in the back wall of St Paul's Cathedral, near the main aisle and the font, and underneath the Rose Window. I think Gregory would have liked that as a final resting place.
I wonder, why did he live, and why did he die? Which leads to the question for all of us. Why do we live, and why do we die? What lives, and what dies? What remains? I like the idea that his breath was drawn back into the great breath of Watan Tanka, the great creator. "Gregory is with God," said our Episcopal priest, when I wondered back then eight years ago....For us here on Earth, there remain precious memories, that's for sure. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Sunday, Church, Earthquakes, etc.
Good evening.
It's been a quiet day punctuated by tiny earthquakes emanating from Brawley, CA, several hundred miles to our east. We can feel them, but just a few--the bigger ones, I guess.
Church was good. Can it be otherwise? At the forum, three couples were on the griddle, telling us about their relationships and how they lasted many years. The youngest relationship was 33 years old, and the longest lasting fifty. I was struck at how different the three couples were, and yet how we all seem to have almost the same problems.
One of the couples was a gay couple and they seemed to have worked out their problems very well. One of them is a doctor, the other a nurse, and they were both outgoing and funny. They never go to sleep angry or fighting. They work it out efore calling it a night. They never employ the Silent Treatment on each other.
The two man/woman couples were both open and honest with their problems and with their solutions. I can't imagine Theo and I going onto such a stage: not because I couldn't but because he would not ever do such a thing. There was no time for Q and A, which was perhaps lucky though being Episcopalians we are all too polite to ask awkward questions.
I still go with what I 've said: The secret to a long marriage is a short memory. The more you can forget the more you won't resent, and you won't hold grudges because the older you get the harder it is to remember what they were about anyway.
YAZZYBEL
It's been a quiet day punctuated by tiny earthquakes emanating from Brawley, CA, several hundred miles to our east. We can feel them, but just a few--the bigger ones, I guess.
Church was good. Can it be otherwise? At the forum, three couples were on the griddle, telling us about their relationships and how they lasted many years. The youngest relationship was 33 years old, and the longest lasting fifty. I was struck at how different the three couples were, and yet how we all seem to have almost the same problems.
One of the couples was a gay couple and they seemed to have worked out their problems very well. One of them is a doctor, the other a nurse, and they were both outgoing and funny. They never go to sleep angry or fighting. They work it out efore calling it a night. They never employ the Silent Treatment on each other.
The two man/woman couples were both open and honest with their problems and with their solutions. I can't imagine Theo and I going onto such a stage: not because I couldn't but because he would not ever do such a thing. There was no time for Q and A, which was perhaps lucky though being Episcopalians we are all too polite to ask awkward questions.
I still go with what I 've said: The secret to a long marriage is a short memory. The more you can forget the more you won't resent, and you won't hold grudges because the older you get the harder it is to remember what they were about anyway.
YAZZYBEL
Friday, August 24, 2012
Friday Already
Good afternoon.
My, where did the week go? One day it was Monday, and suddenly...days are gone into thin air. I wrote another haiku but it was in the middle of the night and I forgot it. I forgot to put a 'tag' on it when I was thinking about it. If you can put a 'tag', you have some chance of remembering something.
At church on Sunday, three long-term couples are going to tell what made their relationships endure. Two are male-female pairs, and the third is a gay couple. It might be interesting if they open up and tell the truth.
Nobody asked me and Theodore, who are possibly the longest lasting of all....if you count off-and-on. I could tell them in one short phrase what makes a long term relationship : a short memory on both sides. (It gets easier as you get older; we literally can't remember what we were fussing about just minutes earlier.)
I am making box lemon bars as we speak, here. I could not resist the box, therefore we shall have lemon bars. I was going to grate in fresh lemon zest and put in a few drops of juice but was too zonked from going out in car with HRH. So they will be as Krusteaz hath ordained them.
I gained a pound this week because, after being terribly good for many days, I finally decided I couldn't go on without some meat. So we bought pork chops at Ralphs, nice plump ones, and last night I dipped them in s, p, and flour, and fried them! And I made country cream gravy with the pan scrapings too! And ate thereof!!! Was it worth it? YES.
YAZZYBEL
My, where did the week go? One day it was Monday, and suddenly...days are gone into thin air. I wrote another haiku but it was in the middle of the night and I forgot it. I forgot to put a 'tag' on it when I was thinking about it. If you can put a 'tag', you have some chance of remembering something.
At church on Sunday, three long-term couples are going to tell what made their relationships endure. Two are male-female pairs, and the third is a gay couple. It might be interesting if they open up and tell the truth.
Nobody asked me and Theodore, who are possibly the longest lasting of all....if you count off-and-on. I could tell them in one short phrase what makes a long term relationship : a short memory on both sides. (It gets easier as you get older; we literally can't remember what we were fussing about just minutes earlier.)
I am making box lemon bars as we speak, here. I could not resist the box, therefore we shall have lemon bars. I was going to grate in fresh lemon zest and put in a few drops of juice but was too zonked from going out in car with HRH. So they will be as Krusteaz hath ordained them.
I gained a pound this week because, after being terribly good for many days, I finally decided I couldn't go on without some meat. So we bought pork chops at Ralphs, nice plump ones, and last night I dipped them in s, p, and flour, and fried them! And I made country cream gravy with the pan scrapings too! And ate thereof!!! Was it worth it? YES.
YAZZYBEL
Monday, August 20, 2012
Haiku Monday
Garden Thoughts
Mad wasp of August
Angrily claiming air space
Getting in my way!
Thirsty plants waiting
Ambulant human feeds them
With living water
Madame Hummingbird
Drinking from the bottlebrush
Needs not me, no no!!
Mad wasp of August
Angrily claiming air space
Getting in my way!
Thirsty plants waiting
Ambulant human feeds them
With living water
Madame Hummingbird
Drinking from the bottlebrush
Needs not me, no no!!
Adios, Plaza's
Here's another restaurant review.
First, I should say that Western Chula Vista abounds in Mexican cafes. There are literally hundreds of small restaurants up and down the streets. Most of them are the informal kind of place where you walk up to the counter, order your meal, go up and pick it up when it's ready.
That's what Plaza's is. We first went to it after hearing that it had good caldo, last spring. I think I wrote about it, maybe. And the caldo was good, and Theodore's inevitable two beef tacos were okay too.
Last night we went to Plaza's and had an execrable dinner. I was already a bit leery of a repeat because we'd eaten there a couple of more times since the spring and it didn't seem quite what it was cracked up to be (clean, with well cooked food). But Theo chose it and I said Fine because he rarely chooses.
His tacos were over fried (hard brown tortillas, dull tasteless beef strings with fried edges showing that it had been refried before serving and after stuffing)...tons of dull lettuce, cheese, and that's it.
My chimichanga was delayed in serving. Here's where they made their big mistake. Instead of using one large thin flour tortilla, they wrapped that chimichanga in about three, well at least two, thick flour tortillas...that made a BIG chimichanga but also made a leathery gummy interior wrapped around a very small amount of pretty good tasting beef, cheese and onions. Why can't places realize that less is more? The chimichanga doesn't have to be, in fact shouldn't be, as big as a small automobile on the plate. It should be a thin delicious crispy shell for some good-tasting filling. It should be garnished with some lettuce or sauce or, as in this case, the strangest alcohol-tasting guacamole this world ever knew. Odd, all of it.
The frijoles, my favorite food, were a pile of pallid tasteless mush. And the rice was white, possibly cooked in water with a chicken feather passed over it, and nothing else. HORRIBLE.
I could not eat it. There was a suggestion box on the counter asking for thoughts but I decided they are not worth my opinion. If they really think that's good food, then all there is to say is ADIOS, PLAZA's. YAZZYBEL
First, I should say that Western Chula Vista abounds in Mexican cafes. There are literally hundreds of small restaurants up and down the streets. Most of them are the informal kind of place where you walk up to the counter, order your meal, go up and pick it up when it's ready.
That's what Plaza's is. We first went to it after hearing that it had good caldo, last spring. I think I wrote about it, maybe. And the caldo was good, and Theodore's inevitable two beef tacos were okay too.
Last night we went to Plaza's and had an execrable dinner. I was already a bit leery of a repeat because we'd eaten there a couple of more times since the spring and it didn't seem quite what it was cracked up to be (clean, with well cooked food). But Theo chose it and I said Fine because he rarely chooses.
His tacos were over fried (hard brown tortillas, dull tasteless beef strings with fried edges showing that it had been refried before serving and after stuffing)...tons of dull lettuce, cheese, and that's it.
My chimichanga was delayed in serving. Here's where they made their big mistake. Instead of using one large thin flour tortilla, they wrapped that chimichanga in about three, well at least two, thick flour tortillas...that made a BIG chimichanga but also made a leathery gummy interior wrapped around a very small amount of pretty good tasting beef, cheese and onions. Why can't places realize that less is more? The chimichanga doesn't have to be, in fact shouldn't be, as big as a small automobile on the plate. It should be a thin delicious crispy shell for some good-tasting filling. It should be garnished with some lettuce or sauce or, as in this case, the strangest alcohol-tasting guacamole this world ever knew. Odd, all of it.
The frijoles, my favorite food, were a pile of pallid tasteless mush. And the rice was white, possibly cooked in water with a chicken feather passed over it, and nothing else. HORRIBLE.
I could not eat it. There was a suggestion box on the counter asking for thoughts but I decided they are not worth my opinion. If they really think that's good food, then all there is to say is ADIOS, PLAZA's. YAZZYBEL
The Second Lesson
Good morning.
Sometimes the lessons at church seem specifically to speak to one, do they not? I wrote yesterday about the OT lesson, from Proverbs. It was written for ME.
Today, I'll put in a bit about the second lesson, which is always an Epistle of St Paul (our Patron of the Cathedral.)
It was an Epistle to the Ephesians, and it's short, so I can put in the whole thing:
Ephesians 5: 15-20
Be careful how you live, not as unwise people, but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.
So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.
Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns, and spiritual songs amongst yourselves,
singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times
and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Paul is too preachy, but he knew how to put a sentence together and in this case, did he not speak directly to ME after my desire of yesterday is re-read? He is telling me to get busy and do it NOW. It's too direct to be a coincidence. Or maybe the people who put the Prayer Book together were very very aware of human nature and human conduct and the tendency to wait for tomorrow, and they put those two readings together because every aware reader will immediately see himself or herself in them.
In the third reading of yesterday, the Gospel according to John 6:51-58, Jesus himself is speaking about being the bread of life. I won't tackle that one. It is deep, more deep than I am ready to dive right at this moment. But that moment will arrive in God's own time. YAZZYBEL
Sometimes the lessons at church seem specifically to speak to one, do they not? I wrote yesterday about the OT lesson, from Proverbs. It was written for ME.
Today, I'll put in a bit about the second lesson, which is always an Epistle of St Paul (our Patron of the Cathedral.)
It was an Epistle to the Ephesians, and it's short, so I can put in the whole thing:
Ephesians 5: 15-20
Be careful how you live, not as unwise people, but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.
So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.
Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns, and spiritual songs amongst yourselves,
singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times
and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Paul is too preachy, but he knew how to put a sentence together and in this case, did he not speak directly to ME after my desire of yesterday is re-read? He is telling me to get busy and do it NOW. It's too direct to be a coincidence. Or maybe the people who put the Prayer Book together were very very aware of human nature and human conduct and the tendency to wait for tomorrow, and they put those two readings together because every aware reader will immediately see himself or herself in them.
In the third reading of yesterday, the Gospel according to John 6:51-58, Jesus himself is speaking about being the bread of life. I won't tackle that one. It is deep, more deep than I am ready to dive right at this moment. But that moment will arrive in God's own time. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Getting There
This was the Old Testament lesson today at church:
Proverbs 9: 1-6
Wisdom has built her house; she hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed
her wine; she has set her table.
She has sent out her servant girls, she calls from
the highest places in the town, " You that are
simple, turn in here!"
To those without sense she says, "Come eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed.
Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight."
What a wonderful passage. It spoke to me last night before I'd even heard it, because after a day slouching around in the house so miserable because of the heat, I thought that from now on, if I had my way, I'd just live for music and for art.
I'd build my pillars on them. I'd get rid of the junk.
I'd tidy up the stuff. I have no servant girls beyond my meager talents, but I'd send them out as I might. And they would tell those without sense of the wonderful life I had discovered. YAZZYBEL
Proverbs 9: 1-6
Wisdom has built her house; she hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed
her wine; she has set her table.
She has sent out her servant girls, she calls from
the highest places in the town, " You that are
simple, turn in here!"
To those without sense she says, "Come eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed.
Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight."
What a wonderful passage. It spoke to me last night before I'd even heard it, because after a day slouching around in the house so miserable because of the heat, I thought that from now on, if I had my way, I'd just live for music and for art.
I'd build my pillars on them. I'd get rid of the junk.
I'd tidy up the stuff. I have no servant girls beyond my meager talents, but I'd send them out as I might. And they would tell those without sense of the wonderful life I had discovered. YAZZYBEL
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Now Apple Cake
Yesterday I was reading two different recipes, one for Yuma Dump Cake, a rather primitive concoction with a very simple batter and apple-pie-filling all mixed together and baked, and the other a lemon blueberry cake of the same type but with a more sophisticated cake batter.
Today at the Walmart I saw "Southern Style Fried Apples (Fat Free)" in a can and figured they'd be a fine substitute for canned filling. So I came home and made the following, using ideas from both recipes.
Apple Cake
Sift into a mixing bowl:
2 1/2 c. flour
1 t. baking powder
1/4 t. soda
1/4 t. salt
In another bowl mix:
3/4 c. reduced fat sour cream
1/4 c. low fat milk
2 eggs
1/4 c. melted butter
grated zest of one lemon
1 t. vanilla extract
Beat all the liquid ingredients together.
Add the apple slices after chopping them into small bites....
BAKE for 1 hour at 350 degrees or until toothpick inserted into center comes out clean. Cool in pan 45 minutes...It is amazingly DELICIOUS but would be better made on a cool winter's day than the hottest day of Chula Vista history.
YAZZYBEL
Today at the Walmart I saw "Southern Style Fried Apples (Fat Free)" in a can and figured they'd be a fine substitute for canned filling. So I came home and made the following, using ideas from both recipes.
Apple Cake
Sift into a mixing bowl:
2 1/2 c. flour
1 t. baking powder
1/4 t. soda
1/4 t. salt
In another bowl mix:
3/4 c. reduced fat sour cream
1/4 c. low fat milk
2 eggs
1/4 c. melted butter
grated zest of one lemon
1 t. vanilla extract
Beat all the liquid ingredients together.
Add the apple slices after chopping them into small bites....
BAKE for 1 hour at 350 degrees or until toothpick inserted into center comes out clean. Cool in pan 45 minutes...It is amazingly DELICIOUS but would be better made on a cool winter's day than the hottest day of Chula Vista history.
YAZZYBEL
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Haiku Monday
Good evenin'.
I was awake in the night last night and spent my time constructing a haiku in my mind....
The thought I had was really too big for a haiku, so I kind of gave up and drifted off...
Now I cannot remember what the haiku was about. That's the trouble with working on poems in the middle of the night: you don't always remember those brilliant thoughts the next day.
There is a group who work on and present individually every Monday a haiku for the rest of the group to read and judge. I am never in on this group because I don't know where to find them. The few times I have stumbled into "Haiku Monday," I had read their efforts with pleasure and joined in twice.
If you do not know, haiku is a Japanese verse form that is strictly controlled by number of syllables per line; it's 5, 7, 5. Period. No deviation.
The best subjects are those of nature. Animals and bugs are welcome. So are clouds, rain, sun, wind...I'll make one about grocery store flowers to show you. See, five syllables for the first line already.
Grocery store flowers
Colorful they are, and cheap;
Appreciated!!!
That is a good one because it is ordinary, and it does follow the syllabic count to the dot.
It also presents a common problem--If you pronounce grocery as gro-ce-ry , you already have too many syllables. But groce'ry is a common pronunciation so it adds up right and it okay.
It is also far from beautiful, so not a winner in anyone's estimation. But you try it!!! YAZZYBEL
I was awake in the night last night and spent my time constructing a haiku in my mind....
The thought I had was really too big for a haiku, so I kind of gave up and drifted off...
Now I cannot remember what the haiku was about. That's the trouble with working on poems in the middle of the night: you don't always remember those brilliant thoughts the next day.
There is a group who work on and present individually every Monday a haiku for the rest of the group to read and judge. I am never in on this group because I don't know where to find them. The few times I have stumbled into "Haiku Monday," I had read their efforts with pleasure and joined in twice.
If you do not know, haiku is a Japanese verse form that is strictly controlled by number of syllables per line; it's 5, 7, 5. Period. No deviation.
The best subjects are those of nature. Animals and bugs are welcome. So are clouds, rain, sun, wind...I'll make one about grocery store flowers to show you. See, five syllables for the first line already.
Grocery store flowers
Colorful they are, and cheap;
Appreciated!!!
That is a good one because it is ordinary, and it does follow the syllabic count to the dot.
It also presents a common problem--If you pronounce grocery as gro-ce-ry , you already have too many syllables. But groce'ry is a common pronunciation so it adds up right and it okay.
It is also far from beautiful, so not a winner in anyone's estimation. But you try it!!! YAZZYBEL
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Tuesday Again--a Ranch House Supper
We had a ranch house supper tonight.
Greens with beans
Esquite
Greens with beans are easy and good.
I had some chard in the refrigerator and a can of white beans at hand. You should cut up the chard rather small and put it on to boil...when it is getting cooked, open the can of white beans, rinse thoroughly, and add to the top of the chard pan. Turn everything down and just let it warm up. I added a little garlic, s and p. But you do not need to add garlic if you dislike it.
Esquite is popcorn in espanol, but it is also pan fried fresh corn kernels....which one hopes won't pop. It is so hot in our house today that it is a wonder that the kernels didn't pop while waiting on the drainboard...but they did not. I put them into a skillet and put it on low to dry them out a bit, and then added a little olive oil, some chopped onion, and some chopped green pepper. I had no jalapeno so added a bit of cayenne...then you just fry it slowly until it gets a little brown in places, and eat it up.
It was not as good as it should have been, because the corn was TOO SWEET. Corn is sweet enough on its own without having the plant manipulators work on it to make it sweeter yet. The corn now in the markets is just too sugary sweet. I shudder for the poor diabetics who are woofing it down, every time I see it. They should not touch it with a ten foot pole, yet, who can blame them? Corn is really good (except for the too sweet part.)
Theo had his hamburger-patty-with-cheese as well, but I couldn't face it. Instead I had a piece of WW bread with a little spread of cream cheese with pineapple and chopped cherries...how good that was!
I am giving the leftovers to Patricia tomorrow for a Ranchhouse Lunch...if she has the nerve to drive down here tomorrow in this heat!! We shall see....YAZZYBEL
Greens with beans
Esquite
Greens with beans are easy and good.
I had some chard in the refrigerator and a can of white beans at hand. You should cut up the chard rather small and put it on to boil...when it is getting cooked, open the can of white beans, rinse thoroughly, and add to the top of the chard pan. Turn everything down and just let it warm up. I added a little garlic, s and p. But you do not need to add garlic if you dislike it.
Esquite is popcorn in espanol, but it is also pan fried fresh corn kernels....which one hopes won't pop. It is so hot in our house today that it is a wonder that the kernels didn't pop while waiting on the drainboard...but they did not. I put them into a skillet and put it on low to dry them out a bit, and then added a little olive oil, some chopped onion, and some chopped green pepper. I had no jalapeno so added a bit of cayenne...then you just fry it slowly until it gets a little brown in places, and eat it up.
It was not as good as it should have been, because the corn was TOO SWEET. Corn is sweet enough on its own without having the plant manipulators work on it to make it sweeter yet. The corn now in the markets is just too sugary sweet. I shudder for the poor diabetics who are woofing it down, every time I see it. They should not touch it with a ten foot pole, yet, who can blame them? Corn is really good (except for the too sweet part.)
Theo had his hamburger-patty-with-cheese as well, but I couldn't face it. Instead I had a piece of WW bread with a little spread of cream cheese with pineapple and chopped cherries...how good that was!
I am giving the leftovers to Patricia tomorrow for a Ranchhouse Lunch...if she has the nerve to drive down here tomorrow in this heat!! We shall see....YAZZYBEL
Tuesday
Bon soir....it isnt very late in the soir, but it isnt morning nor noon.
Nothing much to say today but the revised cherry pit count.
Theodore=1
Linda =3
Shame on me for letting pits fly into the batter. But our teeth are all intact anyway so quelle domage. YAZZYBEL
Nothing much to say today but the revised cherry pit count.
Theodore=1
Linda =3
Shame on me for letting pits fly into the batter. But our teeth are all intact anyway so quelle domage. YAZZYBEL
Monday, August 13, 2012
Enchufame
Good morning. Well, it's nearly noon, but still morning here in PDT.
I am waiting for a pan of ratatouille to come out of the oven. Debating: shall I put cheese over it before I take it out? As a vegan (!) I should not. As a person who wants to please the hubby, the answer is yes. Theodore likes cheese on everything.
I also have corn to boil but I think I'll make Theo cut it off the cob tonight and have esquite with it.
Oh, what does enchufame mean? Well, you know those little electrical outlets that adorn the walls of our rooms along the floor? Those are "chufas", and when you plug into them they allow electricity to come in. I'd never heard the word used as a verb before today, but was listening to Paquita La Del Radio today and the astrologist was trying to make a call and he said, "Ven, enchufame,''--to the operator. "Make the connection." I thought it was cute. The accent is on the u of course. (I put that for my monolingual sisters, LOL).
News in San Diego is that some rowdy young persons (though at least one of them is a mother, for God's sake) (leading one to deplore the state of the maturity of our youth)...anyway, 1000 of them trashed the sacred Lily Pond of Balboa Park on Saturday night/Sunday morning, breaking things, ruining plants, hurting and killing the sacred Koi. I feel scandalized and heartbroken about that. I feel like they should be enchufados themselves in the worst connotation of the word. YAZZYBEL
I am waiting for a pan of ratatouille to come out of the oven. Debating: shall I put cheese over it before I take it out? As a vegan (!) I should not. As a person who wants to please the hubby, the answer is yes. Theodore likes cheese on everything.
I also have corn to boil but I think I'll make Theo cut it off the cob tonight and have esquite with it.
Oh, what does enchufame mean? Well, you know those little electrical outlets that adorn the walls of our rooms along the floor? Those are "chufas", and when you plug into them they allow electricity to come in. I'd never heard the word used as a verb before today, but was listening to Paquita La Del Radio today and the astrologist was trying to make a call and he said, "Ven, enchufame,''--to the operator. "Make the connection." I thought it was cute. The accent is on the u of course. (I put that for my monolingual sisters, LOL).
News in San Diego is that some rowdy young persons (though at least one of them is a mother, for God's sake) (leading one to deplore the state of the maturity of our youth)...anyway, 1000 of them trashed the sacred Lily Pond of Balboa Park on Saturday night/Sunday morning, breaking things, ruining plants, hurting and killing the sacred Koi. I feel scandalized and heartbroken about that. I feel like they should be enchufados themselves in the worst connotation of the word. YAZZYBEL
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Sunday!
Good morning!
It's morning of a beautiful Sunday here in Chula Vista. It's already getting hot, but it just feels good to me so far, as a change from freezin'.
As long as we can keep the air circulating and keep the stuffiness out I can take the heat.
Today the flowers at church were put there by the family "To the Glory of God and in Memory of Gregory Neff by his family." They were not very pretty; he'd have preferred orange. But--they were sweet and they were there.
At church, people were chatty. I ascribe that to the warmth in the air; even as Episcopalians we just could not be chilly. My neighbor and I agreed that we both just hate applause in church. Fortunately neither he nor I ever get any. But we hate it on general principles. He even goes so far as to say he does not like air-conditioning in church (I'm not there.) Today was a day that even St Paul's could have used some air-conditioning, but none there was, nor even a breath of air. Was it always thus? Were the beautiful stained glass windows always fixed? Guess so.
A long conversation with a friend who has lost many pounds of weight revealed that she has been on a diet to improve her cholesterol and she certainly did, losing more than twenty pounds in the process. I need to do that.
Another friend who's long been absent showed up. She is now an "intermittent" church goer she confessed. Last time I saw her she was practically propping up the cornerstones so I wonder what happened. I did not get to hear it because I was discussing unseemly clapping as remarked above.
I skipped the Borum, I skipped a snack, and raced home to see if my errant mate had gone outside to perform forbidden acts of prowess and strength in my absence (such as carrying around large blocks of concrete, his favorite activity of late) but he was fine. Though it was nine-thirty, he was just preparing his breakfast and he ate it. Thank goodness I did not get there any earlier. I think it is good for him to fix his own breakfast once a week if he will do it. Yes.
So, on to the rest of the day. I am going to go around turning on fans and when I have done that I am going to read the Sunday paper (5 minutes) and when I have done that I am going to finish reading my mystery novel...it isn't good enough to recommend to you but so far it's held my interest. Kind of. YAZZYBEL
It's morning of a beautiful Sunday here in Chula Vista. It's already getting hot, but it just feels good to me so far, as a change from freezin'.
As long as we can keep the air circulating and keep the stuffiness out I can take the heat.
Today the flowers at church were put there by the family "To the Glory of God and in Memory of Gregory Neff by his family." They were not very pretty; he'd have preferred orange. But--they were sweet and they were there.
At church, people were chatty. I ascribe that to the warmth in the air; even as Episcopalians we just could not be chilly. My neighbor and I agreed that we both just hate applause in church. Fortunately neither he nor I ever get any. But we hate it on general principles. He even goes so far as to say he does not like air-conditioning in church (I'm not there.) Today was a day that even St Paul's could have used some air-conditioning, but none there was, nor even a breath of air. Was it always thus? Were the beautiful stained glass windows always fixed? Guess so.
A long conversation with a friend who has lost many pounds of weight revealed that she has been on a diet to improve her cholesterol and she certainly did, losing more than twenty pounds in the process. I need to do that.
Another friend who's long been absent showed up. She is now an "intermittent" church goer she confessed. Last time I saw her she was practically propping up the cornerstones so I wonder what happened. I did not get to hear it because I was discussing unseemly clapping as remarked above.
I skipped the Borum, I skipped a snack, and raced home to see if my errant mate had gone outside to perform forbidden acts of prowess and strength in my absence (such as carrying around large blocks of concrete, his favorite activity of late) but he was fine. Though it was nine-thirty, he was just preparing his breakfast and he ate it. Thank goodness I did not get there any earlier. I think it is good for him to fix his own breakfast once a week if he will do it. Yes.
So, on to the rest of the day. I am going to go around turning on fans and when I have done that I am going to read the Sunday paper (5 minutes) and when I have done that I am going to finish reading my mystery novel...it isn't good enough to recommend to you but so far it's held my interest. Kind of. YAZZYBEL
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Restaurant Report Cards
Good morning.
I think there ought to be and probably are out there, printed-up report cards for restaurants. If I were making some (And I may do just that) this is what I'd put on them:
Dear Restaurant Owner:
I just had a meal at your establishment. Due to the varying quality of the food served at various places, I have made up a grading scale, easily interpreted, to judge the quality of your food presentations.
1 to 5 stars; 5 being the best.
Tonight I had:
Salad................2 (salad dull, tasteless, tacky)
Broiled sirloin....2 (Ill prepared with a burnt dry taste and probably of poor quality beef)
Baked potato.....4 (Micro'ed but the best thing on the plate and the only thing worth eating. )
"Mixed vegetables"...3 (The carrot rings were hard, the summer squash pieces were perfect except for the parts of stem that were cut in with them, the wide green beans raw, the broccoli ok, the cauliflower ok but the whole thing was watery and tasteless.)
Those were the parts of the Sr Citizen Dinner. Jimmy's used to offer as part of the dinner a dessert which was: choice of rice pudding, bread pudding, tapioca, jello or ice cream. These little desserts were well prepared and looked forward to. Now, it was jello or ice cream. I had chocolate ice cream, and it was good. I wanted rice pudding but, hah.
My husband had chicken fried steak (I tasted it and it had thick cream gravy which tasted like sausage meat) and he liked it. He also had cottage cheese in place of potatoes and the mixed vegetables. He had the ice cream. Instead of a salad, he had clam chowder which he wouldnt eat at home on a bet. I asked him why he'd ordered it and he said it is because it was the first thing mentioned.
Well, this is obviously too much to put onto a card so I am going to have to re-think the process. But you people need to be judged. We paid over forty dollars when you add in the tip for this repast. On a scale of one to five it was worth maybe ten. YAZZYBEL
I think there ought to be and probably are out there, printed-up report cards for restaurants. If I were making some (And I may do just that) this is what I'd put on them:
Dear Restaurant Owner:
I just had a meal at your establishment. Due to the varying quality of the food served at various places, I have made up a grading scale, easily interpreted, to judge the quality of your food presentations.
1 to 5 stars; 5 being the best.
Tonight I had:
Salad................2 (salad dull, tasteless, tacky)
Broiled sirloin....2 (Ill prepared with a burnt dry taste and probably of poor quality beef)
Baked potato.....4 (Micro'ed but the best thing on the plate and the only thing worth eating. )
"Mixed vegetables"...3 (The carrot rings were hard, the summer squash pieces were perfect except for the parts of stem that were cut in with them, the wide green beans raw, the broccoli ok, the cauliflower ok but the whole thing was watery and tasteless.)
Those were the parts of the Sr Citizen Dinner. Jimmy's used to offer as part of the dinner a dessert which was: choice of rice pudding, bread pudding, tapioca, jello or ice cream. These little desserts were well prepared and looked forward to. Now, it was jello or ice cream. I had chocolate ice cream, and it was good. I wanted rice pudding but, hah.
My husband had chicken fried steak (I tasted it and it had thick cream gravy which tasted like sausage meat) and he liked it. He also had cottage cheese in place of potatoes and the mixed vegetables. He had the ice cream. Instead of a salad, he had clam chowder which he wouldnt eat at home on a bet. I asked him why he'd ordered it and he said it is because it was the first thing mentioned.
Well, this is obviously too much to put onto a card so I am going to have to re-think the process. But you people need to be judged. We paid over forty dollars when you add in the tip for this repast. On a scale of one to five it was worth maybe ten. YAZZYBEL
Friday, August 10, 2012
Cherry Season
Good day!
I am making George Lang's My Mother's Cherry Cake from his Hungarian Cookbook. Those who want the recipe, put those words into Google and you will come up with many references to it including Y'bel's previous blog.
I dont know how good this will be. I cook better hungry, and I had already eaten lunch. But--it can't be too bad.
I followed directions to the letter, but the egg whites for some reason did not fluff up...they kind of got super-thickened and that was it. Well, we'll see.
But when I got to the buttering the pan part and putting in the bread crumbs, I had a little problem: no commercial bread crumbs and no white bread around. Then I remembered a drying white French loaf so I got that out with a grater. When I saw those little fresh crumbs falling onto that butter, I knew I had Betty Crocker licked a mile.
I had a pound of fresh cherries, and used about a half pound. I didn't want the top of it swamped in cherries. I have a wonderful cherry-pitter given me by Benjamin, one of those birthday presents (by request) that will always come in handy if only once a year. So after the dough was on top of the bread crumbs, I pitted away and laid the pieces on top of the dough. One caution, pit the cherries away from the cake dough because those little devils will jump into the dough and sink, awaiting the gluttonous unwary. Be careful.
The cake won't come out for about a half hour, so I can't tell you more about the results than a prediction: It will be delicious. YAZZYBEL
I am making George Lang's My Mother's Cherry Cake from his Hungarian Cookbook. Those who want the recipe, put those words into Google and you will come up with many references to it including Y'bel's previous blog.
I dont know how good this will be. I cook better hungry, and I had already eaten lunch. But--it can't be too bad.
I followed directions to the letter, but the egg whites for some reason did not fluff up...they kind of got super-thickened and that was it. Well, we'll see.
But when I got to the buttering the pan part and putting in the bread crumbs, I had a little problem: no commercial bread crumbs and no white bread around. Then I remembered a drying white French loaf so I got that out with a grater. When I saw those little fresh crumbs falling onto that butter, I knew I had Betty Crocker licked a mile.
I had a pound of fresh cherries, and used about a half pound. I didn't want the top of it swamped in cherries. I have a wonderful cherry-pitter given me by Benjamin, one of those birthday presents (by request) that will always come in handy if only once a year. So after the dough was on top of the bread crumbs, I pitted away and laid the pieces on top of the dough. One caution, pit the cherries away from the cake dough because those little devils will jump into the dough and sink, awaiting the gluttonous unwary. Be careful.
The cake won't come out for about a half hour, so I can't tell you more about the results than a prediction: It will be delicious. YAZZYBEL
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