Monthly Archives: August 2008

Directions

I have a special luxury in life of memories and places. And I remember how to get there. We live in a big city but this is what speaks to me.

Exit here, take a right and go to the end of the road, Yes, the road ends, Take a right at the stop sign. As you go through town, take a left at the light. Yes, THE light. Keep going 2.3 miles and take a left.

This is a sign you’re in God’s country. Make a turn on a country road in nearly any state in the US and there are the most amazing sights to see, and people to meet.

I’ve lived in these places and have family who lives there still. I used to turn on the light in the guest bathroom at Jim’s folks place and have cows lowing at me. Now I leave the light off so they know I’m not Joe and I’m not about to go out to feed them. But I have fed them grain and gave a baby calf a bucket full of milk as his mom had twins and he was foresaken.

But I’m not going by for this weekend’s festivities though I would have liked to help Margie cook for the cowboys. While I won’t let Zoe out off-leash there in an unfenced area (she has no idea of traffic) everyone who drives by waves hello. Now where can you get that kind of camaraderie except in the country!

Features

First I was featured in Editorials, and when I asked for that to stop I’m now on Writers. I’m filing this under Scotland. Perhaps I’ll be featured on that next. The photo is of Glasgow Cathedral, an early and perhaps best photo I took in our months there.

Permit me to tell you a highly distilled version of the story. St. Mungo came to Glasgow from Ireland in the 5th century. That was not his name. The Scot King gave his Queen a gold ring. She bestowed it upon a member of the King’s army. While everyone was sleeping the King took the ring off the soldier’s finger and threw it into the Firth (river) of Clyde.

Upon returning to his castle the King demanded the Queen present him with the ring he gave to her else be killed. She confessed and gave penance to St. Mungo.

He asked one of his priests to go to the Firth of Clyde and fish. The first fish he caught, he brought back to St. Mungo. It had the gold ring in it’s jaw. The Queen returned the ring to the King and her life was spared.

To this day this is the logo and motto of Glasgow. The fish, the tree (of life), the bird and the ring. For the life of me I don’t remember the bird but (help me Karen) the motto is Let Glasgow Flourish. I loved our time there. It is a “working man’s” city with lovely architecture and we were steps from the main square. Trains to everywhere, a traveler’s (not a tourist’s) paradise. Plus we had great guides, thanks Karen and Jack.

http://www.scotland-guide.co.uk/ALL_AREAS_IN_SCOTLAND/Glasgow/City/St_Mungo_and_the_Glasgow_coat_of_arms/St_Mungo_Articles.htm

St. Mungo's Cathedral

St. Mungo

A Man Named Jed

“Poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed. And then one day he was shooting at some food when up from the ground came a bubbling crude. Oil, that is. Black Gold. Texas Tea…”

When I met my love seven years ago he told me his parents’ county was the only one in Texas without oil. Now they want to build a lake to fill the water needs of Dallas by flooding the family farm, and guess what they found.

Black gold, Texas tea. Imagine that. We’ll keep in touch with the folks back home to see what happens next. No child of ours will be named Jed, nor will the next dog. So give it up already. Dee

Food Shopping

New neighbor Kathy and I went to a farmer’s market then specialty grocery/wine/liquor store this afternoon, then tasted some of my food stash before she ran back home to cook for a couple of guys helping a local high school with it’s play. Perhaps it’s a version of Hamlet 2! If so I can’t believe it’s going to open this soon! OK, we saw it and it satirizes inspirational teacher movies among other things.

I put out a plate of fresh strawberries, grapes, figs, and peaches. Small bowl of home-marinated Kalamata olives. Bel Paese and goat cheese, with water crackers. Cetamura Chianti from Badia al Coltibuono.

Jim arrived home tired but we spent an hour having a nice chat. I bought a “naked” hand-tossed Italian pizza crust for dinner. Placed some Greek tomato sauce on top, some pepperoni, Cappiello mozz and Parm. It was tasty and if I need to make quick pizzas without waiting 2 hours to make the dough and proof it and let it rest, I’ll get more.

The fun in it for me is showing a new Texan some of the best places to buy great fruit and veg, and specialty items one cannot buy elsewhere. We didn’t have time to do herbs and spices but that can wait.

All in all it was a nice day. Potential hurricane this weekend and we’ll prep as we can and watch the Weather Channel but otherwise we plan to stay here.

Cow Orientation

Now that my loving husband has fixed my wireless keyboard (thank you love) I can write again. It got low on batteries so I put four new ones in and one was bad.

So, Jim’s father, my very own Bovine Yoda with over 30 years running a dairy and now a ranch, says that the north/south orientation I read on a blog then heard on tonight’s news is bunk.

Here’s what he had to say, according to m-i-l Margie.

“They are full of s***. Cows do orient their body when on uneven
terrain, to keep the head up higher than their butts. I’ve been out
there many a morning with the cows all lying down and they lie down in
every direction. They also feed the same way. Sometimes they will line
up like a lawnmower, in a fan shape and graze on line, especially when
turned out in a new area.”
“If there were no fences, I believe they would migrate some, like the
buffalo, according to the seasons and available vegetation.”

We are now witnessing some Boer goat behavior and they are much like the
cattle in grazing and resting body orientation.

One of the most interesting animal behaviors Joe has ever witnessed was
when a small group of about 20 beef cows, in a very large pasture with
very little human interaction, went into defensive mode making a circle
with their heads facing out to protect their calves against a small
group of 3-4 coyotes. When Joe got closer the coyotes ran off.”

So that’s the news from the ranch.  Just call this post “Bovine MythBusters.” Dee

Writers, all

please, there are many better writers deserving this designation. I give it to my fellow bloggers.

Fear

Since I’m up I may as well write.

I dreaded the first day of school when the teacher would mis-pronounce my name. Had nightmares all summer about that first day and what was to come.  The dreaded take-off-coat-underwear nightmares.

My seat was in the back so I wouldn’t be noticed. When our music director called me in after school I thought I was in trouble. Then she made me look away while she played notes and I called them back to her (perfect pitch) then tried me out for the lead on Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” My Aunt Lorna cried at the concert, which I actually had the guts to perform.

My parents never fought but divorced instead after being married nearly 40 years. I thought that to get into a disagreement with a boyfriend was an automatic end of the relationship.

Even in politics I didn’t appreciate the fight because I always thought it was personal. It wasn’t until I took on a volunteer endeavor and was followed, harassed in public and worse that I realized it is personal and political and deals with whatever your values happen to be.

So you need to stand up for what you believe in. No matter what it is. If it’s important to you, do it. I did it when one of the boys took my winter hat off my head at age 9 on the school bus and ripped it in half. You live in a cold climate, you wear a winter hat. Ferry boys be damned, to this day.

I now make my point on a blog, in newspaper editorials (NYTimes and more); and in person. I know if it’s a woman everyone says it’s “strident” but this is what I have to give. It’s not angry, it’s very positive and a gift I give to you in poetry and prose. No, that’s not spelled Prozac. Dee in a Frank Sinatra Moment (3:00 in the morning).

Note to Feral Cat Coalition

The cat I hold is a stuffed cat. I helped you neuter 12,000 cats and raised two ornery ones to overcome this baby photo. www.feralcat.com

Hope the beanbag Snowflake The Wonder Cat is still doing training and I miss everyone! Dee

Real People

It’s interesting that the top three artists I remembered a connection with are Tony Bennett, Carlos Montoya and Henry Mancini. There are others but these stand out because they were real people.

Dad took me to visit Tony Bennett at his guest house. We spent a half-hour chatting about everything and made sure he was OK and left. The next morning I was in my office and saw this man coming across Bestor Plaza to the men’s shop below us, like he was a regular guy. No-one accosted him for an autograph. He had no security, nothing. Amazing!

Carlos Montoya, the guitarist, was trouble from the get-go. His agent kept stressing his rider in which he needed a chair which was exactly 17.5 inches from the ground with certain other specs. I anticipated disaster. Once my driver had him safely ensconced on the grounds in guest lodging I called him so we had a few hours before rehearsal to find him the perfect chair. I’d arranged for keys to all the major facilities including the playhouse/opera house, different halls et al and had people standing by.

I picked him up and asked if he wanted to see the amphitheatre where he’d be playing and he said “yes.” So we drove and parked up the street and walked in. The Amp Crew had placed the 74 seats out for the orchestra to back Mr. Montoya. He asked if he could walk onstage. Of course! Sat in one of the orchestra chairs and asked if they had another. It was the perfect seat for him. Five minutes, done. Later on that evening I drove him to a reception and he was just a lovely man.

Henry Mancini (“Moon River”) was always one of my idols. He came to a reception at the house, catered by my Aunt Lorna and Joan C, and we kids were always around to pass hors d’oeuvres or help with dishes. He came into the kitchen to escape and get a glass of water and we spent 10-15 minutes chatting about music et al.

There are so many more. Burl Ives in his underwear (being groomed for his performance by his wife and daughter) and I was invited in but at 19 was too shy for that. The lecturers are a different breed, more on that later, as well as other artists.

I worked so much when I was there that I didn’t get a chance to do more than stop by events. That’s why I miss it so much when I have the luxury of seeing the morning lecture, lunching at the Athanaeum, et al. I’d stop by for five minutes at best. At everything. Mainly to deliver a check, roses or a speech I’d written.

For years afterwards I had trouble enjoying an entire evening at a play or opera, because it was my job that made me pop in and out of everything and therefore enjoy nothing. But what can I say. We worked there, we didn’t live there.

Sad to say I really do like visiting in the winter when the big social thing used to be the post office and bookstore. Yes, on some days one can cross-country ski to the post office. It’s become more upscale these days so Starbucks or like has come in for the growing population of winter people.

Soiree

Postponed. New lady moved in from Ohio and we want to make her welcome in these parts. Too much was going on for both of us today so we postponed.

I’m working on the bat cruise and what I hope to be a neighborhood get-together Wednesday evening for an hour of appetizers, vino and sodas.

In that vein, I neglected to mention in my favorite gadgets the soda syphon. Jim had never heard of one but when he said he wanted to take up sparkling water, I turned to Amazon and surprised him with a soda syphon and canisters. You remember these from 1950′s movies, where someone poured a Scotch whisky and added soda. This is what we now use for “fizzy water” and is great with a slice of lime or lemon.

I’m taking new neighbor Kathy to the farmer’s market and specialty grocery tomorrow. I hope to pick up some new fruit and cheese to add to our menu as our guest count grows.

Toast some cocktail breads, after cutting. Melt goat cheese rounds on them, rolled in cracked pepper and herbs. An Italian semi-soft cheese such as Bel Paese. Grapes, peaches, figs, strawberries, crackers et al.

Perhaps pissaladiere. Pizza with caramelized onion, topped with anchovies. It’ll be fun.