Daughter and I spent the day shopping for some fall clothes. We both needed winter coats so went to a nearby outlet mall that had lots of choices. We brought along Xman to provide comment as well.
Daughter was trying on a black wool coat and was looking in front of a full length mirror that was across the aisle from all the coats. When she went back to get another coat, I picked up Xman from the stroller and took him in front of the mirror to entertain him. I looked at him in the mirror and noticed something odd, but thought maybe it was just my old age vision. I called my daughter over and told her to look at Xman's face in the mirror and she noticed it too.
His chubby round baby face looked oval and definately less chubby in the mirror. That was when we realized that we both looked so much thinner in these new winter styles than last year. We just needed to bring this mirror home with us. Sneaky store.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Tonight's Dinner
since you asked.
I bought a selection of lamb loin. It was already sliced very thin and elegantly as the Asians do so well. I marinated it in a Korean barbeque marinade. This comes in a package which I mix with water and has LOTS of garlic. It would taste the best over a grill, but we are grill-deprived these days. Then we are cooking some oriental egg noodles in salted water.
I also purchased those lovely small eggplants that are always better when purchased at the Korean market for some reason. They get sliced and pealed and then fried lightly in a corn oil with sesame oil and I make a sauce of soy, water, sugar, sesame seeds, and kaffir lime leaves chopped which I pour over the eggplant.
This is dinner with a nice white wine. It stinks up the kitchen big time, but tastes good.
I bought a selection of lamb loin. It was already sliced very thin and elegantly as the Asians do so well. I marinated it in a Korean barbeque marinade. This comes in a package which I mix with water and has LOTS of garlic. It would taste the best over a grill, but we are grill-deprived these days. Then we are cooking some oriental egg noodles in salted water.
I also purchased those lovely small eggplants that are always better when purchased at the Korean market for some reason. They get sliced and pealed and then fried lightly in a corn oil with sesame oil and I make a sauce of soy, water, sugar, sesame seeds, and kaffir lime leaves chopped which I pour over the eggplant.
This is dinner with a nice white wine. It stinks up the kitchen big time, but tastes good.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Sex in the city
It was a long late afternoon after work on Thursday that we had dedicated to food shopping. We went to the Korean Supermarket first. We hadn’t been there in months and bought such luxuries as curry mixes, kefir lime leaves and rambutan. Then we headed to the local little market closer to the apartment that still is grandfathered to sell wine with their food in this Puritanical state. Upon our return to the apartment we had a dozen bags to haul up to the fifth floor, and we used my former MIL’s carry basket on wheels which I store in the trunk of the car—we are now officially old people as a result of this.
We put all the good new food away and then decided to walk to the nearby Chinese restaurant for dinner even though astonishingly angry gray clouds were racing across the sky above. If you remember this is one of the best Chinese restaurants I have ever eaten in and it is in WALKING distance of where I now live. After our delicious meal (mine Ginger, chicken and scallions and hubby something really unhealthy and fried) we asked for a doggy box and carried the leftovers back to the apartment.
Upon approaching the building from across the parking lot we heard an alarm bell. When we reached the back door of the lobby the alarm was clearly a fire alarm and we saw about 20 people standing in the driveway outside the front door of the lobby. (We had seen two police cars parked there when we arrived to take up groceries earlier and ignored them.)
After talking to our apartment neighbors out the front, the result of all this activity was 1) a domestic dispute (thus the police cars) and 2) someone on the first floor baking bread and then burning it and setting off the fire alarm. The possible fire is a real issue among those who have lived here since last year, because an elderly couple died last year due to a fire in another building on this complex. Still, there are a lot more than 20 people that live in our building, so, some folks were willing to chance being fried, I guess.
It was an interesting watching my husband operate as we headed through the lobby and to the outside at the front of the building. My hubby immediately chatted up the two chickies that live on our floor. One a blue-eyed blonde from Ohio and one a Philipino Hawaiian from Hawaii. They are both law students at one of the nearby colleges and really sweet girls. He now knows at least 12 people that live in our building and I must admit that I know no one. I smile and chat briefly on the elevator, but never to the point of actually getting to know names and lives. Good thing I married him or I would be the loneliest person on the planet.
Anyway, all the tired, dirty and equipment laden firefighters from the TWO engines that showed up let us back in after about 30 minutes as they returned to the street—(No, not one of them looked like the guys on those calendars, and that was a disappointment on my part. God gives hubby the chickies and I get dumpy men and women in baggy gear.)
Living in the city is pretty interesting sometimes for some of us.
We put all the good new food away and then decided to walk to the nearby Chinese restaurant for dinner even though astonishingly angry gray clouds were racing across the sky above. If you remember this is one of the best Chinese restaurants I have ever eaten in and it is in WALKING distance of where I now live. After our delicious meal (mine Ginger, chicken and scallions and hubby something really unhealthy and fried) we asked for a doggy box and carried the leftovers back to the apartment.
Upon approaching the building from across the parking lot we heard an alarm bell. When we reached the back door of the lobby the alarm was clearly a fire alarm and we saw about 20 people standing in the driveway outside the front door of the lobby. (We had seen two police cars parked there when we arrived to take up groceries earlier and ignored them.)
After talking to our apartment neighbors out the front, the result of all this activity was 1) a domestic dispute (thus the police cars) and 2) someone on the first floor baking bread and then burning it and setting off the fire alarm. The possible fire is a real issue among those who have lived here since last year, because an elderly couple died last year due to a fire in another building on this complex. Still, there are a lot more than 20 people that live in our building, so, some folks were willing to chance being fried, I guess.
It was an interesting watching my husband operate as we headed through the lobby and to the outside at the front of the building. My hubby immediately chatted up the two chickies that live on our floor. One a blue-eyed blonde from Ohio and one a Philipino Hawaiian from Hawaii. They are both law students at one of the nearby colleges and really sweet girls. He now knows at least 12 people that live in our building and I must admit that I know no one. I smile and chat briefly on the elevator, but never to the point of actually getting to know names and lives. Good thing I married him or I would be the loneliest person on the planet.
Anyway, all the tired, dirty and equipment laden firefighters from the TWO engines that showed up let us back in after about 30 minutes as they returned to the street—(No, not one of them looked like the guys on those calendars, and that was a disappointment on my part. God gives hubby the chickies and I get dumpy men and women in baggy gear.)
Living in the city is pretty interesting sometimes for some of us.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Don't Hate Me Just Because I'm Beautiful
Well, Hubby talked me into following him on his next business trip. I really didn't want to go. When I tell you where, you will hate me. But, I have been there so many times as well as lived there for a year and at least one of the weeks of the trip is totally business for hubby so, I will be spending most of my time reading books on a beach--egad. Yet, again as my daughter reminded me, this is where we met and fell in love. What kind of a cold fish am I anyway? Certainly not a romantic, am I.
OK, enough suspense. The first two weeks in December, I will be heading out to the Hawaiian Islands of Maui, Kauai, the big Island and Hawaii.
But, guess what? If you promise not to be jealous, I will take you with me. I will journal entry each stop and take lots of photos. I will look for Internet cafes, but don't really have a laptop to take, so maybe have to write a journal and send it all later.
At least my blog mates in Japan and Germany may enjoy this. I hope.
OK, enough suspense. The first two weeks in December, I will be heading out to the Hawaiian Islands of Maui, Kauai, the big Island and Hawaii.
But, guess what? If you promise not to be jealous, I will take you with me. I will journal entry each stop and take lots of photos. I will look for Internet cafes, but don't really have a laptop to take, so maybe have to write a journal and send it all later.
At least my blog mates in Japan and Germany may enjoy this. I hope.
Monday, October 03, 2005
In Honor of the Gentle People
I was looking for my Bali trip photos during the time we lived in those islands, but I think they are probably in slide format and in storage. Balinese people are a gentle and artistic society and a small corner of the world that deserves this violence the very least of ALL of us. They absorb cultures as they move through and adapt. This photo is the only one I could find from that time and is my baby girl taking Balinese dancing lessons.Guess what we did this weekend?
Babysat on Friday so that the married couple could visit their friend who just has a little baby. Babysat on Saturday night so that the married couple could take an old friend out to dinner. Then Sunday went with daughter to the pumpkin fields!Thursday, September 29, 2005
Waiter, There's a Blattella in My Soup!
Can you trigger a bad experience by talking about a similar bad experience? Well, maybe so.
Hubby was explaining his difficulty in finding healthy food while at a rural meeting in South Carolina recently. The hotel restaurant was not appealing and expensive so his team headed for a local popular restaurant in the town. He looked through the menu and found out that everything on it was fried. I mean, he likes fried food but that is the problem. Finally his eyes settled on the following entrée - “Grilled chicken breast with roasted red potatoes and garden fresh zucchini.” This had to be healthy, right? So he ordered it. Guess what arrived. He got a grilled chicken breast, yep. Only thing is that it was covered about a half-inch thick with some kind of glutinous white gravy. He looked at the roast potatoes and they were first BATTER fried and then roasted and of course, you have guessed that the zucchini was also batter covered and fried. So much for a healthy meal.
Now, he was telling me this story as we pulled into a mall to eat after our builders meeting. The mall appeared to be only a few years old and had the traditional chain restaurants. I was craving a margarita and so we selected the chain On the Border. (Now, just so I don’t get sued, we have eaten at this same chain in a different location and found the food quite respectable along with the other services.) This time was a little different.
I ordered my margerita and the waitress asked if I wanted a “large or small.” This should have been my first clue, as I don’t usually frequent places that ask this question. When she told me how large the large was, my old-age judgment kicked in (along with my husband’s dirty look) and I ordered the small.
The drink arrived along with our order. I sipped the drink and it seemed a little bland and lemonadey – (this isn’t a word, so I don’t know how to spell it.) I am a picky, picky person about my margeritas and years ago realized the only place to get a good tasting kicker drink such as this is in Mexico, so I sighed and accepted that fact. Then the waitress started pulling the grilled steak and onions off the hot platter that she brought. She asked if I wanted onions and I said, “Yes.” (of course.) My husband also had onions with the entrée he ordered. We soon discovered that these onions had been left too long on the shelf or were picked green or something as they were chewy and dry! Ick. When the manager with the bleached teeth smile came by our table, we mentioned that he needed a new produce supplier as the onions were pretty much inedible. He apologized but didn’t give me the impression he gave a flipping you know what.
I continued to nurse my drink finding it blander and blander when the waitress brought another margerita. I looked up in surprise and clarified with her that I had not ordered a second drink.
“I know.” She said. “The bartender accidentally made two, so instead of letting it go to waste, I decided to bring it.”
Oh, I thought. I put the first drink aside and sipped the second. It actually had essence of tequila and I said to my hubby. “You know what? I think the idiot bartender forgot the tequila in the first drink and sent out this second drink so I wouldn’t complain.”
We continued through the rubbery onions, acceptable steak, and less-bland drink when something caught the corner of my eye. It was a Blattella germanica moving down the wall and toward the table. I am so very familiar with these having lived for years in the tropics. As this little brown nugget proceeded to cross the table toward me I put down my fork and napkin and immediately moved to the waiting bench near the front door of the restaurant, explaining the situation to hubby. I didn’t return.
When hubby called for the bill he elaborated on why I had left, and wouldn’t you know it? They didn’t offer us anything - not a free meal, a % off our bill, a free dessert, nothing. We could have been obnoxious and not paid the bill and let all the customers in the restaurant know the type of place they were eating in, but we aren’t that type. We just won’t eat at that chain again in any new areas!
The moral is don’t tell bad restaurant stories before you eat out.
Hubby was explaining his difficulty in finding healthy food while at a rural meeting in South Carolina recently. The hotel restaurant was not appealing and expensive so his team headed for a local popular restaurant in the town. He looked through the menu and found out that everything on it was fried. I mean, he likes fried food but that is the problem. Finally his eyes settled on the following entrée - “Grilled chicken breast with roasted red potatoes and garden fresh zucchini.” This had to be healthy, right? So he ordered it. Guess what arrived. He got a grilled chicken breast, yep. Only thing is that it was covered about a half-inch thick with some kind of glutinous white gravy. He looked at the roast potatoes and they were first BATTER fried and then roasted and of course, you have guessed that the zucchini was also batter covered and fried. So much for a healthy meal.
Now, he was telling me this story as we pulled into a mall to eat after our builders meeting. The mall appeared to be only a few years old and had the traditional chain restaurants. I was craving a margarita and so we selected the chain On the Border. (Now, just so I don’t get sued, we have eaten at this same chain in a different location and found the food quite respectable along with the other services.) This time was a little different.
I ordered my margerita and the waitress asked if I wanted a “large or small.” This should have been my first clue, as I don’t usually frequent places that ask this question. When she told me how large the large was, my old-age judgment kicked in (along with my husband’s dirty look) and I ordered the small.
The drink arrived along with our order. I sipped the drink and it seemed a little bland and lemonadey – (this isn’t a word, so I don’t know how to spell it.) I am a picky, picky person about my margeritas and years ago realized the only place to get a good tasting kicker drink such as this is in Mexico, so I sighed and accepted that fact. Then the waitress started pulling the grilled steak and onions off the hot platter that she brought. She asked if I wanted onions and I said, “Yes.” (of course.) My husband also had onions with the entrée he ordered. We soon discovered that these onions had been left too long on the shelf or were picked green or something as they were chewy and dry! Ick. When the manager with the bleached teeth smile came by our table, we mentioned that he needed a new produce supplier as the onions were pretty much inedible. He apologized but didn’t give me the impression he gave a flipping you know what.
I continued to nurse my drink finding it blander and blander when the waitress brought another margerita. I looked up in surprise and clarified with her that I had not ordered a second drink.
“I know.” She said. “The bartender accidentally made two, so instead of letting it go to waste, I decided to bring it.”
Oh, I thought. I put the first drink aside and sipped the second. It actually had essence of tequila and I said to my hubby. “You know what? I think the idiot bartender forgot the tequila in the first drink and sent out this second drink so I wouldn’t complain.”
We continued through the rubbery onions, acceptable steak, and less-bland drink when something caught the corner of my eye. It was a Blattella germanica moving down the wall and toward the table. I am so very familiar with these having lived for years in the tropics. As this little brown nugget proceeded to cross the table toward me I put down my fork and napkin and immediately moved to the waiting bench near the front door of the restaurant, explaining the situation to hubby. I didn’t return.
When hubby called for the bill he elaborated on why I had left, and wouldn’t you know it? They didn’t offer us anything - not a free meal, a % off our bill, a free dessert, nothing. We could have been obnoxious and not paid the bill and let all the customers in the restaurant know the type of place they were eating in, but we aren’t that type. We just won’t eat at that chain again in any new areas!
The moral is don’t tell bad restaurant stories before you eat out.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Martha, Martha, Martha
I have to admit that I never really liked Martha Stewart as a personality. I didn't watch her old show on TV and the few times that a friend gave me an old copy of her expensive magazine, I never found much in it that I had time to try or could afford to try. She was always a little too D.A.R. stuffy for my tastes. The smile was polite but cold and she never looked real, even in gardening boots.
I was talking to a co-worker (a hippie-guy) about coffee the other day. I said that I read somewhere that French press coffee was supposed to be the best way to make coffee and I had found that true after testing it myself. I even found it better than espresso coffees I would buy at the restaurants in Italy. He laughed and said that I must agree with Martha Stewart, because he saw her 'coffee' show. But he explained that she always has to make things more complicated than necessary. She boiled her water and added her coffee but instead of letting it sit for 3 minutes she insisted that you had to stir it for 4 minutes---stirring coffee for 4 minutes is not the way I want to start my morning!
Well, I have started to watch her new afternoon show on The Learning Channel (not The Apprentice TV show which I hear is bombing.). She comes on at 6:00 when I am cooking dinner and it is a nice distraction. I cannot tell you how she has changed or how her real self has burst through or maybe prison has made her go a little crazy! She had P-Diddy on as one guest and was making "wraps" like dough wraps, wrapping paper, and of course, she even got down a little with him and his music. It was the funniest show! She was very comfortable, witty and kept things totally unawkward, even when P-Diddy held his dough wrap and stuffed it exactly as if it was a joint saying "I know how to do this!"
On another show the guest was Marcia Cross from desperate Housewives who plays a Martha Stewart type character. Well, Marcia clearly doesn't know how to cook and is really the opposite of the character she plays and making scrambled eggs with Martha Stewart was a such comedy of errors that kept the audience laughing.
Stewart comes across as that perfect witty hostess. She appears to be very knowledgeable about things that have nothing to do with being a hostess with the mostess and therefore, can appear with characters such as David Spade who appeared dressed just like her.
Of course, she still hypes each and every one of her K-Mart products with give aways and also advertises her evening show The Apprentice-Martha Stewart during the banter. Her TV studio is huge with lots of kitchen gear. In her personality change, she clearly hasn't lost her drive to make money.
I was talking to a co-worker (a hippie-guy) about coffee the other day. I said that I read somewhere that French press coffee was supposed to be the best way to make coffee and I had found that true after testing it myself. I even found it better than espresso coffees I would buy at the restaurants in Italy. He laughed and said that I must agree with Martha Stewart, because he saw her 'coffee' show. But he explained that she always has to make things more complicated than necessary. She boiled her water and added her coffee but instead of letting it sit for 3 minutes she insisted that you had to stir it for 4 minutes---stirring coffee for 4 minutes is not the way I want to start my morning!
Well, I have started to watch her new afternoon show on The Learning Channel (not The Apprentice TV show which I hear is bombing.). She comes on at 6:00 when I am cooking dinner and it is a nice distraction. I cannot tell you how she has changed or how her real self has burst through or maybe prison has made her go a little crazy! She had P-Diddy on as one guest and was making "wraps" like dough wraps, wrapping paper, and of course, she even got down a little with him and his music. It was the funniest show! She was very comfortable, witty and kept things totally unawkward, even when P-Diddy held his dough wrap and stuffed it exactly as if it was a joint saying "I know how to do this!"
On another show the guest was Marcia Cross from desperate Housewives who plays a Martha Stewart type character. Well, Marcia clearly doesn't know how to cook and is really the opposite of the character she plays and making scrambled eggs with Martha Stewart was a such comedy of errors that kept the audience laughing.
Stewart comes across as that perfect witty hostess. She appears to be very knowledgeable about things that have nothing to do with being a hostess with the mostess and therefore, can appear with characters such as David Spade who appeared dressed just like her.
Of course, she still hypes each and every one of her K-Mart products with give aways and also advertises her evening show The Apprentice-Martha Stewart during the banter. Her TV studio is huge with lots of kitchen gear. In her personality change, she clearly hasn't lost her drive to make money.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Another Lovely Fall
I took this picture about three years ago when we took a long fall weekend in West Virginia. It is not the high resolution version, I couldn't find that one. But, I think it does look a little like a greeting card and it makes me excited for the coming weeks.
Monday, September 26, 2005
What's a Metrosexual ?
Daddy is definitely a metrosexual and never leaves the house without product in the hair and the perfect sport shirt. Looks like Xman has inherited his dad's genes and already has an opinion on what he wears. Actually I kind of agree that they look monkey-vomit-green!
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Lazy Weekend
Don't stick your tongue out at your grandson!
After breakfast with our plastic surgeon (in his early 40's and not married, ladies) hubby went fishing and Ween and I proceeded to complete her SIX loads of laundry. After several hours of running between the laundry rooms on the floors we got clothes folded and back into numerous laundry baskets and containers.
Then we headed out to the large home store and she looked for faucets for the new sink and shower in her basement (which is still just a dark concrete room). She was lucky and found something almost immediately. We did some more looking and then treated ourselves to a pumpkin spice drink at Starbucks. We headed home to a dinner that hubby prepared from freshly caught fish and harvested oysters. Yum. Then some great ice cream and we watched the DVD Cold Mountain.
Slept in this morning as did Xman. Hubby prepared a breakfast of pecan pancakes (Yes, I do cook and you are right, I don't deserve him.) He packed for his week-long trip to New York and we headed out for shopping at the wine, make-up, blinds and Pier 1 Imports stores. I got the pillow below as my "inspiration" for developing the colors in my master bedroom. I have long wanted a sunset and/or fall color scheme and this pillow seems to represent that.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Saturday Musings
Got up early this morning as my hubby had an "interview"” with a plastic surgeon. Hubby has decided that he does not want to retire cold turkey and his office is not amenable to letting him retire and come back part-time. So he is looking at CEO-’ing a project headed up by an M.D. with friends with money. I would someday like to be in the position where I have so much money that I NEED to invest it somewhere--not have to FIND money to invest somewhere.
Years ago Bill Cosby'’s TV show joke was that the black upper class TV family on his show were not rich "“because they all went to work for their money. Rich people have money work for them!"
Anyway, we took him to breakfast at a nice chain restaurant nearby that has huge and fairly well-prepared breakfasts and talked "“turkey." (Must have poultry on the mind today.) Actually it was some other animal, but I am trying to stay somewhat anonymous on this site. The doctor is in his forties, tall and attractive and did I say he was a face surgeon? (Yes, ladies, I am thinking what you are thinking.)
Well, this all is in the very earliest stages since it requires a very long process to get this thing up and running. So, this meeting was just a get-to-know-you first-date type of meeting. The two of them went off fishing and I am sitting in the apartment waiting for my sweet daughter and little one so that I can help them do laundry. (Remember her stupid idea to gut and remodel the basement shortly after Xman was born?)
Once that gets done, —which should take at least a couple of hours, our day is free. Maybe we will do something cool? (Remind me to tell you about my daughter's most recent plans for an Italy trip. This also needs some tweaking in the planning.)
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Life Story #2
One of the joys of living a long time is that you have a lot of life stories to carry you through the years. The story that goes with this picture above is not mine. It is my husband's, and since he doesn't blog (he can barely use the computer), I get to tell it.
This picture was taken in Cuba sometime in 1959 or maybe early 1960. Those of you that know your history realize that this was the year that Fidel Castro took over the Cuban islands driving out Batista in the Cuban revolution. The picture is of my husband with his mother and father in front of a fort somewhere on one of the islands. Here is the story of how they got to Cuba and what happened after they got there.
My husband's family lived in Florida at this time. They went to one of those fun beach parties which had some contests with prizes. Since my father-in-law was in real estate this was probably a company party. One of the contests was a 'limbo' contest. I am not going into details about limbo (look it up.) Anyway, hubby was very limber and youthful then as you can tell from his body build in the photo above and he WON the contest. The prizes were a bottle of Cuban rum, and even more significant, a trip to Cuba.
His parents were certainly surprised when he ran up to them with this good news. As soon as they could they made their arrangements for this trip and flew to Cuba. Their hotel was one of those beautiful hotels with marble everywhere. They were certainly confused to see collections of rifles in the marble urns at the entrance to the hotel, though. They were also surprised to see so many revolutionary soldiers in the streets and so many weapons being carried about. But the hotel staff greeted them warmly and acted normally and checked them into their room. This put them at ease. While they were in the lobby they saw Castro and Che, et al. When they asked the desk clerk about the all the activity he told them about a new government in Cuba. They spent one day in Havana and the next day left for Isle of Pines.
After checking into the hotel at the Isle of Pines, they went down to the dining room at the dinner hour. They were very surprised to see that the tables in the dining room had been arranged into one long table for Castro and his "generals" and one tiny table in the corner for them! Of course, they were a little uncomfortable as they crossed the room in front of Castro and his contingent and proceeded to be seated. Then to their surprise Castro waved his arms to the waiters and insisted that the American tourists join him at the head of his table!
My husband's father (and my husband also) are gregarious and friendly people. So the evening was filled with lots of drinking and laughter; and god, I wish I had been there. Hubby said Castro was a very interesting and good host.
My husband had persuaded his parents to arrange a fishing trip for him...the love he has clearly had since birth. The next day my husband awoke early for his fishing trip and as he headed out, pole in hand, toward the dock to meet with his fishing guide, a jeep with Che Guevera in it passed him and stopped. Che asked where hubby was going and hubby explained.
"Get in." said Che. Hubby didn't hesitate since there was a man standing through the open roof of the jeep with some impressive weapon in his hand.
The jeep proceeded to the dock, but since Che and his buddies were also going fishing, they insisted that hubby join them on their boat instead. Their boat was much, much nicer anyway. Never one to pass up an opportunity, the twelve-year-old boy jumped in their boat and spent the entire day out fishing. They didn't return until well after dark.
When hubby got back to the hotel he found his dad drunk at the bar and both mad and terrified at not knowing where his son had gone for the day since the fishing guide was still there.
The next day they returned to Havana for one final day of sightseeeing before heading back to Florida. Imagine their surprise upon checking into their hotel in Havana when they found it was the headquarters for Fidel and his 'army.' Fidel was meeting with his generals there that night!
Hubby's parents had arranged for a trip to the local tourist nightclub (I really think it was called the Tropicana) for a floor show that evening. They had reservations for a very good table center front stage. Things got a little creepy when after being seated, the couples at the tables on either side of them were replaced by men who certainly looked like revolutionaries. That night they were starting to be glad the vacation was coming to an end.
The next day at the airport before departure they were separated for a security check and hubby said his mother indicated she had NEVER been searched as fully as she had that day. They made it safely back to Florida and only years later realized how close they had been to history.
Fun trip, huh?
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Salt and Peppa!!
I had been pretty depressed about the prejudice that became so obvious in Katrina's aftermath. I am one of those stubborn liberals that refuse to believe anyone could be so stupid, afraid and heartless as to ignore or deny someone help based on their background. When I read some of the accounts I ended up feeling guilty as if these were my brothers and sisters (i.e. Barbara Bush's comments) reflecting me and my beliefs.
Well, shortly after that we went to a free jazz concert that was part of our community's revitalization efforts and also a last minute support for the Katrina revitalization.
There were some wonderful jazz groups such as Marcus Johnson who kept me moving. The headliner was Winton Marsalas. The night was perfect, warm and sexy, the moon was almost full and smile-beaming to the beat in the sky. We ended up standing on the third floor of the parking garage as we could see the stage better, had a wonderful breeze, excellent sound and could people-watch the audience on the space below us.
I noticed that it was a very diverse audience of thousands of people. The majority of our community is black, some poor, but not as poor as New Orlean's citizens. I saw black and white faces in about equal numbers, young and old, children and grandparents and dogs. Everyone was in a gentle and friendly mood. A 50-something black man adopted my husband and proceeded to spend a good part of the time befriending him. Yes, he was three sheets to the wind (the black man), but he wasn't obnoxious. My husband who is a non-drinker was the perfect gentlemen to this.
Even the people who were visiting from Israel and standing behind us talking about how they really didn't like jazz finally drifted away and we enjoyed a langourous enjoyment of "Down by the Riverside."
I left that concert thinking that this is what America is supposed to be about. Accepting our differences and finding that common ground, in this case jazz, baby, jazz, and sharing our love of it.
Well, shortly after that we went to a free jazz concert that was part of our community's revitalization efforts and also a last minute support for the Katrina revitalization.
There were some wonderful jazz groups such as Marcus Johnson who kept me moving. The headliner was Winton Marsalas. The night was perfect, warm and sexy, the moon was almost full and smile-beaming to the beat in the sky. We ended up standing on the third floor of the parking garage as we could see the stage better, had a wonderful breeze, excellent sound and could people-watch the audience on the space below us.
I noticed that it was a very diverse audience of thousands of people. The majority of our community is black, some poor, but not as poor as New Orlean's citizens. I saw black and white faces in about equal numbers, young and old, children and grandparents and dogs. Everyone was in a gentle and friendly mood. A 50-something black man adopted my husband and proceeded to spend a good part of the time befriending him. Yes, he was three sheets to the wind (the black man), but he wasn't obnoxious. My husband who is a non-drinker was the perfect gentlemen to this.
Even the people who were visiting from Israel and standing behind us talking about how they really didn't like jazz finally drifted away and we enjoyed a langourous enjoyment of "Down by the Riverside."
I left that concert thinking that this is what America is supposed to be about. Accepting our differences and finding that common ground, in this case jazz, baby, jazz, and sharing our love of it.
Sleepless in the Mid-Atlantic
I went to bed completely exhausted about 9:00 PM and was in deepest slumber by 9:15---didn't even hear hubby sneak into bed after Monday night football. Now it is 1:30 and I am wide awake. Same thing happened last night! I can't quite put my finger on the reason I have been having sleep problems lately. My life is morphing so much now, that I am sure this has something to do with it. I am a grandmother for the first time, I am approaching retirement, I am building a house, I am apartment living in the city for the first time in decades...all of this is changing and challenging me. But, this restlessness occurs mostly on the week nights, so the insomnia probably relates more to job stress than anything else.
As I wrote a while back, my work program is morphing also. I spent late yesterday in a meeting with others (one pompous ass that should retire ASAP, two gung-ho young technical writers and PR types, and one career woman about my age) meeting to plan how to meld my program's public image with another new progam web-wise. We must have one consistent approach. They have the budget now, so I have to be realistic about the direction of things. But, it takes tremendous patience not to scream when they spend hours discussing the aspects of the subject area...since they are each learning about it for the first time. I know the history, I know the customers, I know the accomplishments, I know the issues. But, I have to let them try to figure out how to prioritize because I can't take my marbles and go home. I have no marbles. (Marbles being money...not brains although sometimes I think that is open for discussion as well.)
They recognize that I have decades of work in this subject area and at least five years of work with this particular department. It is just that they come with a political/policy agenda and I come with an education/research agenda. So, we have different goals and approaches. You can't really teach an old dog new tricks. You can just update their act and add it to yours.
Tomorrow I have a stupid two-day training class for three hours each in a general apsect of my subject area. I only signed up because I was making an effort to learn new tricks, but I am sure I will come from this not having learned much new. Make me wrong, please.
Feeling a little grouchy like this 'bear' in the woods.
As I wrote a while back, my work program is morphing also. I spent late yesterday in a meeting with others (one pompous ass that should retire ASAP, two gung-ho young technical writers and PR types, and one career woman about my age) meeting to plan how to meld my program's public image with another new progam web-wise. We must have one consistent approach. They have the budget now, so I have to be realistic about the direction of things. But, it takes tremendous patience not to scream when they spend hours discussing the aspects of the subject area...since they are each learning about it for the first time. I know the history, I know the customers, I know the accomplishments, I know the issues. But, I have to let them try to figure out how to prioritize because I can't take my marbles and go home. I have no marbles. (Marbles being money...not brains although sometimes I think that is open for discussion as well.)
They recognize that I have decades of work in this subject area and at least five years of work with this particular department. It is just that they come with a political/policy agenda and I come with an education/research agenda. So, we have different goals and approaches. You can't really teach an old dog new tricks. You can just update their act and add it to yours.
Tomorrow I have a stupid two-day training class for three hours each in a general apsect of my subject area. I only signed up because I was making an effort to learn new tricks, but I am sure I will come from this not having learned much new. Make me wrong, please.
Feeling a little grouchy like this 'bear' in the woods.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
A Day of Start and then Start Again
Today was appliance shopping as my builder told me we couldn't fit the refrigerator/freezer that I had already selected easily into the kitchen. I think he is wrong and am asking for a kitchen designer, because a refrigerator is a VERY important appliance that is used daily and I want to be able to use the one I picked. We went to one of those large everything and then-some stores to look at all the kitchen appliances. As we left, we found some celadon green dinnerware that we decided to buy, since we do not have a complete set of dishes at this time what with the recent move and all. This store is at least 30 minutes from where we live and, of course, when we got home we found 5 plates, one bowl and one cup broken. I called the store and they at least said we did not have to bring back the whole heavy box; they just wanted the broken items, please. With gas prices what they are our dish set just went up another $3.00!
While at the store we also were looking at CD players since our old player seems to be ignoring the CDs when we try to play them. This is a somewhat fruitless task with everyone moving to digital stream technology. We couldn't find anything simple and decided to try out a CD cleaner disk instead. I'll let you know if it works. I've got a feeling that there is more to this than a dirty disc player.
While at the store we also were looking at CD players since our old player seems to be ignoring the CDs when we try to play them. This is a somewhat fruitless task with everyone moving to digital stream technology. We couldn't find anything simple and decided to try out a CD cleaner disk instead. I'll let you know if it works. I've got a feeling that there is more to this than a dirty disc player.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
For the Rainy Days
Someday in my life,when the rain doesn't seem to go away, these are the pictures I hope to keep in my mind until the sun breaks through.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
I did some research...
Checked out the nice restaurants in our area. That little platter of broiled oysters that I posted yesterday would cost about $50.00 here! I think hubby has got himself a good hobby. The sauce I made over the top was as follows for those of you who may have access to bivalves to eat.
2 tablespoons melted butter
4 cloves of garlic heated in microwave and chopped fine
1/4 red onion chopped fine
one stalk of fennel chopped fine
seasoned salt
very light sprinkle of spicy chile powder mix (Tabasco also works)
Heat all together until simmered
Add juice from one lemon and 2 tablespoons of white wine
pour over raw oysters and then broil
2 tablespoons melted butter
4 cloves of garlic heated in microwave and chopped fine
1/4 red onion chopped fine
one stalk of fennel chopped fine
seasoned salt
very light sprinkle of spicy chile powder mix (Tabasco also works)
Heat all together until simmered
Add juice from one lemon and 2 tablespoons of white wine
pour over raw oysters and then broil
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Me and my shadow.
I have not watched the news or read so much about Katrina's results by choice this week. I have contacted a few friends in that area and their homes survived; but they are frantically working on rebuilding research labs or classrooms and libraries. I have contributed as best I can, and need to back off from the images and stories for now. Interestingly, the thoughts still permeate my life. Most recently in the form of food. Last night we harvested and ate these.
As we relished these freshly harvest oysters, we also thought about how the oyster industry in the Gulf area along with all the seafood (caught and farmed) had been devastated. How some of the shrimpers lost their homes and are now living on their boats and have nothing to harvest.
Then today as I live on liquids and find food constantly tugging at my thoughts and food smells driving me bananas (see even my descriptors are edible!), I chastise myself in that I can have nutritious liquids and I am not thirsty like the hurricane survivors nor will I ever be as hungry as they must have been.
My concern for the procedures of the medical appointment early tomorrow is nothing like the fear they must have tried to control.
As we relished these freshly harvest oysters, we also thought about how the oyster industry in the Gulf area along with all the seafood (caught and farmed) had been devastated. How some of the shrimpers lost their homes and are now living on their boats and have nothing to harvest.
Then today as I live on liquids and find food constantly tugging at my thoughts and food smells driving me bananas (see even my descriptors are edible!), I chastise myself in that I can have nutritious liquids and I am not thirsty like the hurricane survivors nor will I ever be as hungry as they must have been.
My concern for the procedures of the medical appointment early tomorrow is nothing like the fear they must have tried to control.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Two photos fell to the ground. Life Story #1
I had just finished putting together a little photo album about my two weeks with my grandson. As I was moving some of the photo albums I have in my bookshelf, these two fell to the floor. Boy do they bring back the memories. I think the guy with the GREAT thighs and totally sweet personality was called Lazarus, if I remember correctly. He was an elder selected as our guide and was helping my husband and I get some drinking coconuts since we had gotten thirsty while touring an area for an environmental study on a possible reef airport. (The reef won, thank goodness! That story involved an angry native and a spear and danger...another blog for another time.) The second photo is me standing next to probably a million dollars--that will never happen again. These giant doughnut shapped stones are money on the island of Yap. They represent a family's wealth. They come in all sizes, but this one has to be worth a LOT! Nice memories of a long time ago.
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