Monthly Archives: August 2010

Hey kid, get into politics

Posted on August 17, 2010 | Leave a comment

You can do whatever (and whoever) you want, flaunt the laws you pass, sell Senate seats and come out smiling in the end! All you have to do is start as dogcatcher or sewer commissioner and you’re on a roll.

I have worked over the years with a few leaders and good folks who take care of their constituents, even helped them get elected. But as I get older I grow more cynical about our representative democracy and the people who choose to run for these jobs we pay for. These used to be part-time jobs that teachers and others had in their communities. Now they’re all full-time.

It really doesn’t pay well, so there must be something inside the system, outside the system (illegal) or retirement benefits that lure candidates. As the health insurance package doesn’t apply to Congress I wouldn’t mind being voted in a term or two and serve my constituents well just so I have a pension and great health insurance my entire life.

So, if these people could be in business they’d be making money and couldn’t afford to run for office and lose that income. Lately, many rich people have financed their own campaigns so they could be their own person in office, yeah, right. Must one be a millionaire to run for office? Or a party hack who has paid the dues through HQ work, lit drops et al.

I’ve been in government, and unwillingly in politics and today I am not looking up at giants, but looking down at a field of players even I, as an eternal optimist, would not care to coach.

Can I do something about it? Run. Away, not for office. Or try to get other responsible people to run and vote. Always vote. Apathy is rampant in our country and smart people need to do more. Democrat or Republican, Green or Tea Party, we need to step up. We don’t have kids so it’s up to me in our family. My husband has to work for a living. Cheers, Dee

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Where is Home?

Posted on August 17, 2010 | 2 Comments

My husband will always have a place to come home to, even though in the next few years Dallas will flood the land where he grew up and it will become a reservoir for the ever-growing metroplex. His folks have already bought land a few miles away but it means leaving a home they’ve built from scratch over thirty years ago. Memories of their boys growing up, Christmas trees and asparagus growing in the front yard.

Dairy cows then cattle. I’ve been in the family less than 10 years and will cry when they say goodbye to the house and acreage there. There’s a solid history there and family nearby. But one son has moved a few hours away, and the other, my dear husband, we move more often.

My parents split late in life, but we always moved every few years due to Dad’s work. I know the properties I was once attached to, but that’s what they are. They’re not homes anymore. Mom died nearly two years ago and Dad travels the world. There is no home for me to go to.

But my husband’s grandmother agreed years ago to be mine, and Jim’s parents and family are wonderful and provide a stable base for us. I contribute food, recipes, caring for anyone who visits or is in residence and being there is a retreat of sorts. Jim helps out with some farm chores while he’s there and his mother and I cook.

Where do we go from here? A realtor knocked on the door this morning with a tempting offer to buy within a few miles of where we live now. All I’ve done is promise to see it in the next few weekends. But could this be home? Could we actually buy a place here and retire someday? That remains to be seen.

Right now we like our turnkey place with a 45-day “out” clause because of the economy being what it is and has been the last couple of years. We do miss all our “stuff” in storage half a country away. I haven’t been able to look up a cookbook from my extensive collection for 18 months now! When I want ideas and proportions for a new marinade I have to check online. Oh, I made a delicious rub last year and got it online, it included smoked paprika. Can I find it again? No way.

Someday we’ll settle down, live in a nice home with all our stuff. Right now we’re more concerned with trying to get away for a long weekend as Jim has only taken one day off this year. It’s OK parents, we’ll grow up someday. Cheers, Dee

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Dreams

Posted on August 17, 2010 | Leave a comment

My parents bought a dream house when I was eight years old. It was someone else’s dream and we finished it, inside and out from moldings, drywall, real plaster, paint, dutch doors, retaining wall and swimming pool… and back steps.

All of the above requires another few posts but my point is that it was someone else’s dream house. He ran out of money so it became our dream house. We lived next door to his grandparents, who had a barn apartment 1/4 mile down the road.

What happened to them, as they even sold us their old station wagon with the property? I learned how to ride a mower and we even had our own gas tank and I learned to use both at age eight.

I’d like to think of myself as a balancing force, though my father put me through fits in property acquisition (awful house, gorgeous patio and tennis court that he made me explain to my mother) but through life I’ve always looked for the silver lining.

We’ve hit some bumps along the road but I married a realistic dreamer. If that’s not an oxymoron sue me. He’s got a degree in physics so one foot has to be on the ground, right? His mother gave me a wood carving of a hot air balloon and said I was the ballast. That’s in storage along with all our other belongings.

Now my role is more cheerleader and devil’s advocate, mostly the latter. He doesn’t see the cheerleader part I put into his gourmet meals and everything I do every day. Will we succeed? We do, every day we live life together and turn Zoe over on the bed to give us room to sleep.

My dream life may remain in the distance, his life is front and center and right now I yearn for a small cabin on a lake, even for a weekend. Dee

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Old Friends

Posted on August 17, 2010 | Leave a comment

I’ve seen a couple of older posts this evening and have talked to one old friend over the weekend, and Jim even gave her a video tour of our place. Let’s hope a visit is forthcoming.

I see posts from last February, before we even knew we were moving, and friends were kind and helped out. D helped out when Mom was in hospice, right after Hurricane Ike that devastated our community. I heard she’s now back in Canada.

We have mutual friends over the past ten years, but more that span prior years. We hosted Jim’s high school buddy and family a few weeks ago and while it’s great to have a blast from the past, current adventures are always on the “menu.”

Yes, we move according to Jim’s work, that’s a given. His baggage includes the old lady and the dog. OK, two old ladies. One cooks for him and makes sure his clothes are clean, and the other just sits there, looks cute and chases a ball from time to time. I won’t tell you which is me.

Sometimes I think of 1963 before November 22 when my mother had her hair done every week, and vacuumed in a dress, stockings and pumps. I do it in sweats, tee-shirt and crocs or have it done. Doesn’t that sound awful? I have it done. The shower and floors that my arthritis rails at, is done, every two weeks.

I get my hair “done” too, not in a teased-up, sprayed ‘do but discreet highlights and a good cut and every few months.

A few months ago I received a cookbook from my grade-school music teacher, and it’s wonderful to have people all over the country and world that I’ve studied under, lived with as roommates, worked with, and traveled with that enhance my life, as I hope I did theirs.

If more people studied the world and traveled outside of the computer, it might be a more peaceful place. Right now I meet wonderful young people who seem to be on a good path in life, but there are so many dangers now that were not there when I was a young girl. We didn’t lock our doors, as there was no need to do so. I advise young people to talk to your parents and avoid unnecessary risks. You will thank them later, OK you might thank them when you’re 30 and have two daughters.

I never thought I had a mentor. That’s because there wasn’t only one. There were so many teachers, professors, colleagues, board members and fellow advocates and they were there all the time. I just didn’t see it. Jim’s mother restores family quilts and makes her own. We have a civil war-era quilt she’s re-worked for us and a modern quilt we love and I helped her put the squares in place.

As we are in furnished housing Jim’s mother has the quilts for safekeeping. When we move and get our own furnishings out of storage the quilts, which I’ll probably have to drive to re-obtain, will let us know that we’re home, wherever that may be. And may our family and friends visit us and show them the splendor of “our” mountains. Cheers, Dee

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Banjo

Posted on August 15, 2010 | 5 Comments

One of our guests just bought an entry-level banjo en route to see us and took it out and played a bit, very gutsy as he’s never played one before. Given my fits and starts then stop on guitar for now I’m fascinated that he just took this up today and has several electric guitars as well.

He’s read music for many year but also can use tabs, and I want to get back to reading music. I learned it at a very young age and haven’t done it for years but had to learn new hymns at Jim’s parents church recently. I didn’t know most of the music but read it and was not swayed by the tone deaf woman singing behind me.

My father-in-law led our section with a basso, Jim and his brother chimed in with a bass-baritone, I’m more of an alto and like to figure out harmonies and Jim’s mother sings soprano. No, I didn’t harmonize there. It would have been frowned upon, making one person’s voice different than another’s or having a “solo” is not accepted.

We both love music and Jim likes to dance (also not allowed). Many years ago he taught me the Texas Two-Step in his closet as I was trying to pack all his things so he could move away from me. Note: He Came Back, three weeks later, got a job near me and a place I found 1,000 feet from mine and we were married within the year.

I gave up on the church I grew up in, except for a few extraordinary priests. Our Church allowed dancing, and drinking. The second-best dancing I’ve done is with my husband when he tossed me around the floor at a local honkey-tonk.

The third would be the last time I’ve ever gone home to the Armadillo, that involves a certain cadre that would not accept me into the frat years ago, where one kicks one leg after another to London Homesick Blues by Jerry Jeff Walker. I did visit the village where Jerry Jeff has played a number of times in Gruene, TX.

A dance competition, in college Freshman year. Boz and I joined late but made it nearly 12 hours, I entertained with several aerial cartwheels. We also did well on the twist. I got a knot in my calf that wouldn’t go away after several hours and had to give it up, kudos to Boz for putting up with me after I’d been dumped that night and he deserved a better companion.

Jim and I haven’t danced for a long time, perhaps it’s because we’ve been married for a long time or my arthritis doesn’t allow me to have dancing shoes or cowboy boots to enjoy the music we both love now. Not all country, but western and a lot of other styles. Don’t put me in a box. I’ve a lot of classical, big band, early 20th century, Sinatra, and many more. At my step-sister’s wedding years ago the band played music from the 1920′s until current sounds. I knew the words to all the early songs because of my dad’s piano and violin playing when I was a kid.

I have Someone To Watch Over Me, and someone whose Whipporwill echoes the sounds of my deceased mother honking the horn to get us up from the creek 150′ below for dinner. Night and Day, you are the one…. to my love J

All the best to my readers, I need to fix some things on the new site but please bear with me. If he’s up to it tomorrow we’re going to check out the local zoo and other destinations, in upcoming weeks, so we have first-hand information to give our family and friends who will visit.

Dancing and singing, not bad things as I see them. If one sees the worst in them, the singers and dancers will leave that, and perhaps any religion. Something to think about, Dee

p.s. Can we come up with a song that says “My widgets are gone, …”

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Opportunity Knocks

Posted on August 15, 2010 | Leave a comment

New colleagues have an eight year-old daughter who would love to sit for our dog while we go on vacation. They came by this afternoon, toured the art fair, tried to see the red foxes at their den and actually saw the cranes (the family) this evening.

We bought sodas et al. Also ground beef, hamburger rolls and chipotle sweet potato fries. Everything else we had on hand. First I made a jicama salad with Meyer lemon and olive oil dressing with parsley and green onion slices.

The menu included cheeseburgers with hand-made patties and slices of havarti and emmenthaler cheeses. Whole wheat rolls, grilled. Grilled radicchio with olive oil s&p, iceberg lettuce wedges with yogurt Thousand Island dressing, and grilled peaches with butter, sugar and cinnamon.

Thank you, Bobby Flay for grilling this morning while my husband was asleep as those peaches were fantastic. Everything else just came naturally and easily to me and there were just a lot of dishes to wash and tea towels but that’s easy.

This lovely girl enjoys our dog enough to take good care of her for a few days when we’re away. Our dog is a very happy and excited dog, also very demanding. Both sides were seen tonight, but Zoe was showing off as she usually does for guests.

I guess I try to show off for guests too, but it’s just something I like to do, prepared things I had on hand quickly and tastily and had time to enjoy our dinner. No great French flair, all simple dishes that just require good ingredients. Now I feel guilty. They went to the art fair while I prepped and for a walk after dinner when I cleaned up. My husband went with them, as did the dog on the evening walk. I hope they don’t think I’m anti-social, as I wanted them to have a pleasant evening and have everything prepared at both ends of the meal.

In the end we are thrilled that our young potential sitter enjoys her charge. She’s a smart gal and will be able to negotiate Zoe’s mind games. Plus, she tried a few things I made tonight and disliked most, but did enjoy the grilled peaches even though she didn’t want to like them at all. Cheers! Keep trying new things for your kids, and make them taste before telling them what’s in it. It will change their world. Dee

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Neighbors

Posted on August 11, 2010 | 2 Comments

I remember never locking the doors, car or anything. Neighbors were friendly, quiet and there were casseroles, cheesecakes and pies exchanged. then we moved to larger city suburbs and I went on to live in mainly middle to large cities. There we locked our cars and front doors.

Everyone looked out for each other, except in NYC when I had to convince the deli to sell me salumi to use on yuppie pizza. I also had to get buffalo mozzarella, and had to answer a few questions on how I’d use it as well before they’d agree to sell it to me. Where I lived it was more looking after Nanny when the grandson had a mansion somewhere else. Nonna was well taken care of, so it was probably the safest place in town for me as a single gal.

At Jim’s family’s place, it’s got a feeling I love only partly for the land and views, but especially the people. Everyone who drives by waves and they’re not big on door locks but have a rifle at the ready for any intruder.

Wherever we’ve been it’s been more “cosmopolitan” yet less civil and less safe. We do lock our doors, home and car. We live in a wonderful community that is somewhat civil and quite safe. It is comforting to me, as I consider the future of humankind, to know that there are still individuals out there with a great deal of trust in what we’re capable of achieving and being. In the meantime I’ll still lock the car. Cheers, Dee

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A Gastronomic Voyage

Posted on August 11, 2010 | 1 Comment

How many other blogs have been re-subtitled with that name? I would have not chosen it, as I did not have any control over my new home page either, yet both have been set and I’ve yet to register objections.

I admit lacking basic artistic and technical tools, and keep to writing and cooking and providing the occasional photo, mostly of wildlife and not my food.

I just wish they would have asked me before changing things. It may be right but it’s certainly not comfortable and that’s what I made for dinner, comfort. It’s been quite warm here, even at night, for weeks. Lately there’s been a snap in the mornings when Zoe and I walk and I thought it would be nice to make pot roast with egg noodles.

All foodies probably do it, yearn for next season’s bounty before this season is over. I’ve ordered another surprise box to go along with milk, juice, bacon et al that will be delivered in a few hours. Things have been too crazy at work and here with unscheduled, uninvited visitors who disturb our sleep. We still have an orange and sweet onion from last week so let’s see what we can make out of tomorrow’s surprise. Cheers, Dee

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Age

Posted on August 8, 2010 | 2 Comments

My husband had to go into work last night for a midnight software project. He had to work several hours in the morning (with an hour’s r/t commute) then come home and he left before 11 last night and got home at 5:30 this morning.

I tried to keep as much of a normal schedule as possible. About five minutes before he left I apparently fell asleep and awakened nearly immediately after he’d gone. Luckily he took the sandwich I made for him (more on that later), a fruit salad of watermelon, cantaloupe, kiwi and Granny Smith apple, and slices of watermelon and cantaloupe. Plus salt and vinegar chips.

I took the dog out and I was wearing a jean jacket and pajama pants at eleven. Then I tried to go to bed but it was hot upstairs and I didn’t feel safe with the slider open. The dog was going to and from the guest room where she was on full alert watching for Jim to come home, to see me. That lasted 3 1/2 hours. Then I had my phone by the bed instead of downstairs charging and texts were coming in very loudly (I don’t text).

He got home at 5:30, took out the dog, brushed his teeth, got undressed and was snoring 10 minutes later. I was wide awake and got up and went downstairs at six after he was really snoring away.

The result: he feels like he has jet lag. I’m just tired. It’s one thing to accustom oneself to a time zone and another to pop into work at midnight and be “on” for hours then go home to a weekend. I thought it was Sunday all day! What we both realized is that this might be an easy thing to do in one’s mid-twenties, but as one ages it is more difficult. Of course this work requirement was done on a Friday night so that on Monday morning Jim will be ready to go, it only ruins his weekend. How thoughtful.

Given the trend of software guys it’s late, start at noon or later and work well into the night. He would do this naturally but is forced into a 9-5 (more a 9-7 or 8) reality. So this was new although he’s used to scheduled or emergency calls with London or India or Australia in the middle of the night, from home.

We’re getting older. I used to work 18 hours and be back at nine in the morning. Three weeks was about all I could take of that daily but I was in my 20′s. Marriage, schedules, and a herding dog who thrives on “routine” is enough to make this work anomaly worth mentioning.

Do I like to throw off routine and try to go somewhere to “recharge?” You bet, I’m working on it now. We’re happy, just tired. Cheers, Dee

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MYOB

Posted on August 6, 2010 | Leave a comment

Griswold v Connecticut, 381 US 479, 486 (1965) (“Marriage
is a coming together for better or for worse, hopefully enduring,
and intimate to the degree of being sacred.It is an association
that promotes a way of life, not causes; a harmony in living, not
political faiths; a bilateral loyalty, not commercial or social
projects.Yet it is an association for as noble a purpose as any
involved in our prior decisions.”).

Yes, I’m being politically incorrect on a cooking blog. But we’ve been through more than this. Yet I may turn more than a few off this blog here and for that I apologize and wish you well.

This is part of the ruling that a Federal judge had striking down Prop. 8 in California. Prop. 8 was an initiative passed by 52% of California voters to prohibit gay marriage. Utah-based LDS church raised a lot of money to pass this law and now it has been struck down and stayed (meaning nothing can happen in the meantime) pending appeal. It is thought this issue will go to the Supreme Court.

Much in past law has dealt with prohibiting inter-racial marriage, which was wrong and is a wrong that has been righted, at least on the books. But marriage was created in our laws to make the husband the provider and the wife, who gave her dowry and had no property or voting rights, the duties of housework and child-rearing.

We don’t live in that world anymore. My husband and I have no children (we met and married late). When I call to deal with things to do with work benefits they will not talk to me. Even if I get him on the phone and he OK’s whatever I want to do he must stay on the call the entire time and OK the final result. And we were married in a civil union. I pay the bills but sometimes when there’s a problem and the bill is in his name they still will not talk to me.

Imagine if we weren’t married but together for ten years. Hospital visits, personal papers such as wills and DNR’s… we would have no right to do for one another. Taxes, insurance, buying a home, inheritance. If it’s this tough for us being married for years, imagine how it would be for a gay couple with two kids to figure out.

I know life’s not fair, but if there are people who are going to be good neighbors, raise their kids well and benefit their community I don’t care if they’re straight or gay. That’s how I feel, and I’m currently residing in … Utah, home of the people who funded Prop. 8. If I’ve offended you, sorry.

Tolerance has always been my position, from protecting the kid from getting beat up in grade school (yes, for being gay, though I didn’t know it at the time) to befriending the nerd who is way better for the girl to go out with than the football quarterback (I know that brilliant nerd, as I married him).

What I can say to the people who want to keep Prop. 8. Well, I worked on a totally unrelated issue years ago, for about six years and the most organized people ready to take on an issue were… gays and lesbians. Let’s just say religious right-wingers vs. people who’ve fought the AIDS crisis from medical to legal and beyond, I’ll bet on the gays.

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