Category Archives: Editorial

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Set, Spell a Bit

It’s cool on the porch today, sweet tea and biscuits?

It is nice under the umbrella table now, some iced tea and fresh cherries?

North and South, it is our nation and I grew up in the North (father-in-law says I singly staged the War of Northern Aggression). I assure him it is not my fault as I could never be that old. I married Texas and the South.It seems 1860’s to me but it’s only 15+ years.

How about some chicken enchiladas? I made them for the hands.

Would you like some beef rouladen with spaetzle? Then I learned about Lady Bird Johnson’s recipe for Pedernales Chili, 1962. They cooked for 5,000 including JFK at the Johnson family ranch in Pedernales, outside Austin. It’s Texas. No beans. I purchase and grind my own beef and choose my spices. I’ve never made it for his family. His cousin S made a good version of chili, a wonderful Texas gal, and she added beans! That Lady Bird chili I started making years ago brought my sensibilities about The Empire State and The Lone Star State together. We have a lot in common!

The funniest thing is that both our families hail from infamous towns in Switzerland. My husband grew up on a dairy, and I on what might be called a “hobby farm” with Dr. B and a northern family.

The southerners still don’t “get” the flavors of lebkuchen and mincemeat, but bet they would love prime rib and Yorkshire pudding over the holidays. Alas, I only cook there for Thanksgiving and m-i-l and I spend up to five days preparing for the feast. She loves having our old dog Zoe there for the marathon because it saves on vacuuming!

In every country I’ve visited and spent much time in, I have found the southern regions more amiable. I once had a non-conversation with a Greek cigar merchant knowing good morning, thank you, you’re welcome (kalimera, efharisto and parakolo), laughing and doing hand movements while my sister and I tried to purchase a few cigars for my father as a souvenir. You girls want to smoke cigars? No, they’re for Dad!

Twenty-five years later I named every mezede (appetizer) on the table for Dad’s 70th birthday aboard a sailing yacht. The staff, chef included, were speechless. Hey, I’m smart, and I listen. Spanakopita, dolmades, keftadakia, risosalata, taramosalata, tyroppita and I went on to include eggplant, octopus and more. I make a great moussaka but my husband will not eat eggplant. Go figure, he’s from Texas! Cheers and good cooking! Dee

Claddagh

I’ve a sterling silver Claddagh ring. I actually bought it for my birthday a few years ago, thank you Husband! The hands are for friendship, the heart for love and the crown for loyalty. Mine also has a Celtic knot on the back which means everlasting.

The ring is worn on the ring finger of my right hand, as my left had already been taken over by an 18K gold band, a wedding ring, going on 15 years.

If one is single and looking, the heart is pointing outward and the crown is facing the back of your hand. If one is taken, the heart points to yours. Mine does, and will, always.

To get an 18K gold Claddagh I may have sources. It would mean a trip overseas and would have to be made for me. I do not need that right now. What is needed is to take care of my husband and our old dog. But I just found a men’s one from Ireland. Don’t know the size, though. I’ll look into it and let you know.

I’ve fitted out Zoe’s new handmade Asian silk Martingale collar (two loops, no clasp) that is of a pattern that evokes a computer chip. I also got him a charm for it with an Erlenmeyer flask, a graduated cylinder and a microscope. His roots are in math and science, physics.

He likes the heavy 16′ lead. I like 6′ twisted leather with a gold dragon pattern from the same handmade works for a collar. I’m older and have control of our old Zoe. He does not and is always on the phone, so she gets to eat icky stuff and vomit on our bed. Guess who gets to clean that mess up? Yep. Cheers, Dee

A Glorious Weekend

Actually, it was quite cold and we had to get out our heated jackets. That’s a secret, for now. It was windy, cold and rainy.

Last night I made a roasted chicken with olive oil, salt, pepper, sage and thyme. At the last minute I decided not to stuff it. I heated some red potato wedges in the microwave from the day before (yes, me, microwave) and my husband peeled and sliced himself a couple of carrots to eat before dinner. I had the rest of my lunch plus a few cherry tomatoes. Dee prefers he eats apple or carrot or grapes before dinner, rather than ice cream. Chocolate Therapy, Ben & Jerry’s no less.

We went to our favorite Italian grocery and got another 10# of OO flour for pasta (he wanted, once, to try and make pasta with my hand-cranked machine, as he is a physicist he likes to know how things work) and my pizza dough. They had a house-made tomato cream sauce that was fantastic. We ate lunch there. My husband ordered a muffaletta sandwich with a side of giardiniera. He never got to the side so I brought it home. I had gnocchi and broccoli with tomato cream, some for lunch, the rest for dinner with some of the giardiniera.

After two dinners with glorious sauces over pasta I asked him last night what he wanted for dinner. I prefaced it by saying if he wants spaghetti, tomatoes and meat there is a firing squad outside that will take care of things. Levity, my dear. I roasted a chicken. Today it will become soup or sandwiches. There is always a method to my madness.

The other day ladies and little girls were parading around in summer dresses and sandals. It will be warmer today, but not that warm. I am thinking of a broccoli-cheese soup, bread and a salad for lunch. We do take care of each other, and love the mountains. Cheers and happy Monday! Dee

Amazon

 

As Sung to a Bit of Puff The Magic Dragon…

We ordered toilet paper

By 8 p.m. was due

Now we’re on the last roll

What else can we do

 

We do use Amazon

And most times they come through

In this case we are perturbed

Delivery didn’t do

 

Should we be suing Amazon

And their drivers too?

Or just stop using them

And just say P. U.

 

We get paper towels

And tissues aways too

Amazon’s been good to us

And we really like you

 

You send us books and clothing

And everything you do

Looks professional but

Delivery is overdue

First Date

Let’s see what we did yesterday. Tried to see The Wizard of Oz and fell asleep. Walked the dog at least five times, she’s getting old. He reached up for the Kosher salt so I could fill the salt bowl for seasoning and sugar dispenser for measuring. Then after “last chance walk” for Zoe, he dumped the ice machine’s container so we could have fresh ice.

Exciting things. I also watered herbs and flowers and hydrated my guitar. This week means a trip to storage because the city shut off our water last week and we have a hurricane kit that includes three six-gallon hard plastic vessels one can fill in a tub and use. I could only find two and lent one to a neighbor with an infant. They’re empty now and must go back.

Did I say anything about a first date? I had just turned sixteen. He was eighteen. For years my family had joked about my first date arriving in a red pickup truck. He did. He was the cutest guy at school. My father placed his bifocals low on his nose and looked at my date. My parents chose the movie we were to see from the newspaper. We left at 7:30 for an 8:00 movie, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, a Scorsese film starring Ellen Burstyn as Alice.

The movie ended after 9:30 and I needed to be home by ten. What did my date do? There had been horrific snowstorms and icy roads so he did 360’s on Main Street. It scared me to death. He took me home and kissed me once. He took me out again for an elegant dinner. I ordered salmon…. steak and did not know the cut or how to get the bones out. I was out of my comfort zone in so many ways, just say no. I did. Oh, I did get the gist of the salmon.

My parents, God rest their souls, always said that bad things happened after 11 p.m. I had to be home before then, thank goodness.

I went to cooking school many years later, and earlier, learned how to make supremes of a salmon steak and serve them as a little heart. Him? He had the head cheerleader on spring break in Florida. Two years. Then after my Freshman year in college he showed up at my door.

I loved his parents and he’s been married to and probably cheating on a friend of my little sister’s, for years. I am happily married and just wanted to share a story. They didn’t call Dad “old eagle eyes” for nothing. He could put the fear of God into a date, but loved my husband of nearly 15 years the first time they met. It is good that I love both of them as well. Rest in Peace, Dad, and thanks for everything, Dee

 

Gifts

I’ve several that come to mind. My husband, of which am I am not too fond of this morning because he shut the door and left our dog with me while I was sleeping and had been up most of the night. His old girls were shut-ins. I can get out easily but Zoe cannot do so. Bad Daddy!

My parents. Bob and Barb got a pup when we were quite young. We approved heartily but she was not allowed in the house at all except when it was below zero, then she was allowed into the basement. On my sixth or seventh birthday, I had a dream that told me it was morning and to let the dog out of the basement. I let her out and it was 2:00 in the morning. My parents came downstairs and said we’d find her in the morning. I was so upset.

They gave her away to a farm where she would be “happy.” I think she would have been happier sleeping on my bed at night and snoozing on the sofa or deck during the day. As Dr. Dog says, a backyard dog is a dog without a home. I heartily agree, unless you’re running cattle or sheep.

Same thing with my in-laws, who said it was OK to bring Zoe to Thanksgiving, then offered to mow a goat pen where she could stay, farm country. I said I wouldn’t go and would keep Zoe at home. There was a gift. Zoe indoors with me and at 90 in “people years” she is standing on Grandpa’s side of the sofa where he reads his Civil War books awaiting his return in a truck or a four-wheeler from feeding cattle. Zoe is 13 now and loves Grandpa and Grandma so much. Grandma is upset when Zoe stays home for Thanksgiving because she addresses our messes in the kitchen, eats everything that accidentally drops and makes cleaning up after our daily messes easier.

That gift was taken back a bit when my father-in-law told me I was solely responsible for the War of Northern Aggression! Oh, he was just joshing! He does it all the time, mostly politics. My husband and his parents and grandmother and younger brother and Stevie are all gifts.

There are so many more but it’s time, I have to take care of my family and get my husband breakfast when he awakens. I’m thinking over nearly hard eggs, bacon and potatoes I cooked last night. Note to cooks, never make leftovers look like leftovers. Cheers, Dee

 

 

Inspiration and Aspirations

Never mind perspiration. I awakened thinking I was late on a Sunday to take her out. Turns out the sun was bright and it was 5:30 in the morning and I awakened her.

If I were to opine, I’d say that when her eyes first opened as a pup she realized she was living in squalor. She knew she was a mutt, and wanted to get out of there pronto. Luckily the folks that allowed her to have worms, coccidia et al dumped her litter at the local shelter. Neither I nor my husband ever grew up in those conditions but we understand them and are grateful for shelters who take care of needy animals.

We were married a year and “settled in” as much as a software guy can be coming off the dot-bomb era so decided to get a dog. We met Zoe and were smitten. She was taken. We saw other dogs but liked “Camilla.” They called the next morning, said the hold was released and that she was ours. She was so excited coming home in that cardboard box she jumped right out!

I threw the box in the back seat and she relished sitting on my lap and driving in the car (windows closed, of course, AC on). Oh this was the second shelter to nudge nudge. wink wink change the name. We were down to a list of five. After 20 years of volunteering with shelters and also helping spay/neuter over 2,500 feral cats we settled on a name. Zoe, Greek for “life.” It has suited her all these years as she is the happiest dog I’ve ever met.

Her aspirations were realized. A good family and new/no hips. Yes, by the time she was four months old, at under 20 lbs. she had the worst hips her surgeon had ever seen. I did two weeks of research and we got her in to Val the Vet at six and nine-months of age for two FNHO’s, femoral head and neck ostectomies, they took out her hips. Back then they didn’t have titanium hips for smaller dogs so she had to grow her own hips and that she did. We walked her, my husband had her sneak into the pool for water therapy and she just took it on, life as usual.

Zoe is a trouper. All these years later she is kind of a mascot in our community and all the kids call out “Look, it’s Zoe!!!” My name is irrelevant. She is so kind and gentle to people, little ones, other dogs, even cats. She does have a forever home and has since she turned six weeks old. She is an inspiration to me for the light she gives others, and an aspiration as to what one can do with no hips.

I’ve had two dogs. The first was abused by a Deputy Sheriff, terrified of men in uniform, men with a cap, men in general and all children. I cured her of that in a month. Well, until my Navy neighbor came out in his dress whites. I just said “Chani, it’s Chris!” and she ran up to him and luckily didn’t get any yellow fur on his uniform. He usually wore a tee-shirt and camo shorts to work. She had never seen uniform or lid.

Zoe was to be raised from the day she turned six weeks old, a little puff ball, to now, with love and training and knowing she would be with us for the rest of her life. We’re family. We have inspiration, aspirations and have shared some perspiration to get there.

I like to think our little family has harmony. My brother just says Zoe is needy. Well, she has her own sign language (stare language) and sometimes he and usually I, know what she wants or needs. Out? Need “Precious” that is her only toy?

There was a terrible story yesterday about a tremendously malnourished, frightened and probably abused dog. She looks like my Chani before rehabilitation. Now with a foster family, I hope she gets the food and care she needs to find her own forever home. I know we saved Zoe, as in Texas rather than have two hip surgeries many would have put a bullet in her head. She chose well. Zoe has taught us too, and made a lot of friends. I will be with her, holding her, until the last moment of her life. Right now she’s happy and healthy.

Zoe was offered a mowed goat pen first time in Texas 13 years ago, so I asked my husband to go without us. Then his dad scrubbed an old dog crate and put it in my husband’s old room. Zoe walked in and out in a few seconds and wanted the bed. Now she stands on the sofa on “grandpa’s spot” and watches him come home from feeding the cattle. As she ages I do not wish to fly her anymore. If I’m driving, she has her own setup in back with 4″ orthopedic bed…and she still loves the car. When we fly in “grandma” is always upset that Zoe is missing, even bought her a matching stocking to ours last year because “she’s family.” We do up to five days of cooking and need someone to pick up crumbs. That would be Zoe. Here’s to the dogs in our lives! Dee

John Robert and Petals

That was my name. I was not meant to be a girl or have a Celtic female name now called Dee. As I was not male, they came up with an interesting name with poetic history.  I  was a sorrowful Irish heroine. Sorrowful as I had to teach my teacher from day one every year how to say my name and ask that he/she call me Dee.

They would tell me to move from the back of the class to the front. How did the person in front feel about that? I was brought up the front to bring me up years ahead of my peers in reading, writing and literature. I thank my parents for that.

Now Mom has been gone for nearly nine years, Dad for six months. I keep up flowers and petals are falling from hearty chrysanthemums after less than a week. It makes me sad and I can’t take another death in the family right now. Two flowers are going and one may be mine.

And Dylan. Yes, I was a the 2016 Nobel Poet Laureate’s Bob Dylan fan most of my life. I can’t play the guitar for crap but see the chords in my head. to any lyric and my fingers are too stubby and sore to be a violinist, pianist or guitarist. Dad said I had perfect pitch and he had relative pitch. He was always very proud of me. He could play instruments. I wanted to go the mall as a kid, to spend my babysitting money so quit violin.

Now, I may get to restore his violin. He got through college with calling and fiddling square dances. I would like to do this in his memory, Most likely if it is restorable it will be given to his alma mater with a violin scholarship that has already been established in his name by dear friends, including my choir teacher from 3rd grade.

I may not be a John Robert but am a Dee and try to help people, and shelter/feral animals and am getting back into music in memory of my father through my guitar, My guitar shop picked it up a step, found me a teacher, and the penultimate violin artist. Dad had way more musical talent than me. Cheers! Dee

Water and Dr. Dog

Two days ago we received a notice on the elevator that our water was being shut off by the city. Then an email saying “Please plan your day accordingly.”

I’ve been through a Cat 5 hurricane, blogging it. 149 of 150 lofts were damaged. Ours was not. My husband and dog slept through the night, clueless while I watched trees sway side to side in 80 mph winds and the Bayou rise 25 feet.

Saying to a young mother that she will be without water and to “plan accordingly” is city-speak for we don’t care about you and are not going to give you a hurricane plan sheet about a water shutoff to families with young children and retirees. They don’t give any plans for conserving water to use during the days in question. I don’t trust the city to do the work, get it done in time and it may be days without water and people will die.

We have a hurricane kit and have already delivered an empty six-gallon water vessel for our neighbors to fill and to do what I will do in a few hours. Fill tubs, pitchers, and one sink with soapy water. Six gallon hard plastic tub is filled and sitting in the shower to be used for washing hands and dishes. Water flowers and plants. Use pitchers to get tub water to place in tank to flush toilet when needed.

It’s two hours before I have to get up to finish preparations. I don’t want any more “they’re doing this, not us” going on. The management company doesn’t care that we pay a premium to live here. We live with basketball stars, baseball stars, TV news personalities and hockey elites and I enjoy sports and see players on a regular basis. It’s “hey, how’s it going? Can I pet your dog?” Not me. Him.

Yes, everyone asks this of our old dog Zoe. Look! It’s Zoe! I don’t ask who they are. If they’re tall and skinny I ask how it is to be a linebacker. It’s a joke.

We’ll all be without water today and I’ve tried to get the City and our residents covered in terms of conserving water for daily use for the outage. No one will respond. There are no instructions. Today I help folks with water, tomorrow it’s baby food and blind dogs.

I talked to a dog maven yesterday about the blind neighbor dog. He gave me pointers and asked for a report. He charges for consultations but did not charge me. I’ve been interviewed on his radio show before and he remembered me from over 20 years ago. He asked me questions and one had two bad answers. I chose the best then offered a third option, to give the dog a chance. I passed. He is a brilliant man and has helped me not only with my dogs, but through that training volunteers to care for spay/neuter feral cats, dealing with kids, families and work. Don’t tell him, it’ll go to his Mensa head! Cheers! Dee

 

Puff

When I was seven our choir was selected for the State championships at a place called Hona Lea.

We had rehearsed a really cool song to sing, by a guy named John Lennon. It was called “Let It Be.” Two days before the trials the principal ran in and said that “Mother Mary comes to me” meant marijuana, and we were not allowed to sing it.

We rehearsed Panis Angelicus and came out in second place. A teeny school in a big state. Bravo! I remembered the exact spot that I stood and sat there whenever I could, audience or none, as that was my memory and my family made a home there.

I was a kid in the 60’s and had never heard of marijuana or Mary Jane or anything. I could have sung John Lennon’s Let It Be until the cows came home. Administration scared us into being afraid of music.

Similar was Puff (The Magic Dragon) by Peter Yarrow and Leonard Lipton as sung by Peter, Paul and Mary. I thought John Lennon had a poem to sing, just as did PPM. They were about life stories, and I loved the dragon. They were not about drugs, at least to me.

This admistrivia taught me about drugs very young, something I would have never known if adults hadn’t put their skinny tie and suit stamp on something we were unable to read or sing. No, I never did drugs (Ok I inhaled once or twice late in college but didn’t like it so demurred) but have always cherished the First Amendment.

Rebellion is in my nature. Administrivia stunting my growth made it come along later in life. If there is a cause I believe in, I’ll take it. I got a crosswalk in our neighborhood with curb cuts between a bad relationship with city and county on either side of the street. No-one stops at it. It took six months. Every year I have to call and have them paint the lines.

Puff was a magic dragon to me, a phantasm that only ephemeral creatures can inhabit, along with unicorns and perhaps many others such as elf lords and Hobbits. I took up guitar at age 50 and will do so again. Puff was probably the fifth song I ever learned. Now I get a kick from cooking veg popsicles for teething babies (not mine) and their mothers and singing a song. I’m certain Ms. M will not mind my bad guitar, guitar good, my bad chords, singing Puff to her six month-old. Luckily baby G loves my guitar and voice. Score one for Aunt Dee! Dee