Monthly Archives: October 2009

It’s gusting 40-50 mph winds out there, making a lot of noise. I’m fantasizing about being a weather reporter and using the term “variable” for any circumstance. “Thanks, Don, the current storm has now been officially named Hurricane Ike. Expect rain and variable winds for the next two days. Oh, and put all the outdoor furniture in the pool.”

“Here we are in tornado alley awaiting the next storm. The winds will be variable so please get into your fallout shelter immediately.” “The Santa Ana winds have come into southern CA once again and wildfires have breached I-805 and are headed to the shore. Get out, NOW! The winds are variable.”

Thank you for listening to this variable message. The fire in 2003 did breach I-805 and we had the car packed and ready to go. The sky was red and ash was falling all over and we thought we’d lose everything but each other. We had to wear gas masks outdoors and it was 100 degrees indoors because windows had to be shut and there was no A/C. So when winds here are listed on a local site at “light to variable” I expect 10 mph, not fifty. Dee

As for the adage about success being 1% inspiration and the other 99% perspiration, that 1% goes far. I had a great lesson and despite life getting in the way of practice this past week I think I’m over my slump and back in the game.

We worked on “Let it Be” for a bit then switched to “Sounds of Silence.” I figured out the intro on keyboard once I got home. I also got inspired watching both Dire Straits and Joan Baez (separately) sing “Brothers in Arms.” Over the past few days I’ve downloaded Art Garfunkel’s “Breakaway” album. I listened to it nearly every day in college and my husband reminded me that I bought it for him years ago, before we were married. In “My Little Town” he writes “and after it rains, there’s a rainbow and all of the colors are black, it’s not that the colors aren’t there, it’s just imagination they lack.” Beautiful and sad.

Tonight I’ve almost finished the smoked paprika BBQ rub for two half-chicken breasts that are ready to go in the oven. I have to look and see if I can find the recipe again. It may be on Epicurious. Hopefully that site is still alive now that Gourmet is dead. I have some organic frozen Yukon Gold potatoes and will lightly steam a few fresh snap peas as a veg.

Today was a good day! Cheers, Dee

As far as cooking, I have hot hands. I can get anything out of a cold mold by using my hands but melt pastry and chocolate, which may explain why I don’t do desserts. But that’s another kind of cool.

I’ve always been an odd pea, out of the pod. While I use an avatar of her unique work, it’s a beautiful Civil War-era quilt with painstaking detail of flowers that she has re-worked and re-conditioned that is another family heirloom I love. I believe it’s a hexagonal design and pastel quilt (I say that because as we are in temporary lodging the quilts are with their maker for safekeeping). Later on, as dementia set in, a couple of very strange hexagonal patterns emerged and were stitched at the edges of the quilt. One is black and green, the other orange and black. I liken this as Jim and me, peas out of the pod, who came together later in life. We miss both quilts and all our belongings and hope to find a home to place them in very soon.

I was always a pea out of the pod. Taking up guitar the past few months has been interesting. First I had a more restrained teacher, and now I’m with a drummer who does electric guitar and other instruments. I told a college buddy who just had lunch with a mutual friend that my teacher was trying to make me cool at age 50 and that if I wasn’t even cool at 20 he’s got a tough road ahead. My old friend said I was always cool at age 20, just didn’t know it, and that they wouldn’t have hung with me if I wasn’t cool.

So let’s sing some London Homesick Blues (“Armadillo” for the Swamp) for the boys. Go for it, Jerry Jeff Walker. I’ll try to catch you in concert sometime, as I know how cold it gets in London/Glasgow. Let’s try for TX. How about Gruene Hall? With the Swamp?

Love goes out to friends Wils, Led, Boz, Chomper and friends. Put ELO on the stereo and let Chomper play air guitar. Chomper, get in touch, I just took up acoustic.

They said I was cool! And I never cooked for these guys so they don’t know how cool I am with more than a hot pot and popcorn maker and vial of vile instant iced tea. Here’s to us, Dee

Jim and I met eight years ago yesterday or today. I’d have to look up the date. It doesn’t matter. He opened the car door and took my hand and it was love not at first sight. We’ve had our ups and downs but love each other and our canine companion, who had her own issues.

Shortly we’ll celebrate another anniversary and I am very happy to have my dear husband at my side, as well as our Hipless Wonder Zoe the dog. We move with Jim’s career. Zoe’s career is herding us so she moves along with us. I never thought I’d say this but I love this blog almost as much as I love cooking and my family and friends.

We met at TGI Fridays at lunch. We talked a long time, shook hands and parted company and he called the next night for dinner and a movie and we’ve been inseparable ever since. He moved back to TX then back, for me. I could never meet a more forthright and honest man. And he’s brilliant.

He is not a cook, and that’s fine. One day I came over to his place (that I found 1,000 feet away from mine) to make us lunch one day and I was making soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. He saw me making the grilled cheese and said “so that’s how you do it!” Now I’ve a photo of him making toast at age four. It took him nearly 30 years to learn to put a bit of butter on it and add cheese.

Now, another day I was washing out plastic zipper bags and drying them over any of my appliances. Yes, I’d moved a portion of my kitchen over to his place because I had a cat and he was allergic to cats so he couldn’t eat at my place. I was putting them away and he asked if I regularly washed them and re-used them. Never having met his mother I wondered what she would think. I told the truth and said yes, and it turns out it was the right answer because his mother is much more frugal than I have ever been.

It is eight years since I met my soul mate, my best friend, my husband and while outside influences (recession, job market) have taken their toll we’re still here. And guess what, after I prepared the ingredients, he actually made his own grilled cheese sandwich yesterday! Bravo, my love.

We can leave most of the cooking to me. Perhaps you can try to make an egg over medium someday, flipping it over the stove. Eight more years? OK. Sounds good to me. Enjoy your day! Dee