Category Archives: Editorial

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Change

It’s tough for anyone. Both of our next door neighbors came by to say goodbye. One with a six-pound daughter. I’d seen him on move-in day and years later on move-out day. In between he’d run a “hotel” service for paying clients and none of us thought highly of that.

Our other neighbors are due a lasagna to place in their new oven for a free and easy dinner tonight. It is my ten minute lasagna recipe on this site. I helped them pack for two days and tweaked an ankle injury I received 25 years ago walking my first dog on a craggy road. I was looking at flower gardens, not where my feet were going, and sprained my ankle. Anytime I over-do it, it tweaks a bit but is much better now.

I’ll call this morning and arrange to drop off their lasagna with cooking instructions. They called us here, to our current home, without either of us knowing it and were here five years, arrived shortly before we did. We always had fun together, and they always checked in on me when my husband was away on business.

Two neighbors have left but another is expecting a new arrival. I plan to give them a ready-to-go dinner when they return. For them. The baby will get it second-hand so it won’t be Texas chili. Other neighbors wish to get a dog over the holidays. We’re now the anchors, ambassadors and our dog Zoe protects them and their homes.

I need to go and make Beef Carbonnade for dinner. Beef, onions, bacon and beer cooked for hours. Cheers! Dee

Belonging

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Winnie-the-Pooh_characters#Piglet

We had moved twice from our family home in a year. Ten miles down the road, different school district and easier for Dad to get to work.

This was high school. Battle. Brawn, cheerleaders and brains. I was good at English Lit and Algebra, Alex on Geometry, we all studied together.

We came up with names from A.A. Milne, and we were all supporting characters. I remember two. Alex was Tigger. I was Piglet, a tiny girl. I realize now I was probably the leader of the group. They named me as such and when a situation comes up, I just deal with it.

I had a crush on Tigger but had never dated nor wanted to do so. After all, we had to go through Geometry after Algebra. He was my saving study grace there. I wonder what he’s doing now. Probably a home and wife and kids, perhaps grandkids, I wish him well.

Twenty years ago I was a consultant for an impoverished neighborhood striving to educate their children. We had an event one day and I was given an opportunity to assess one of the parent seminars, and I learned algebra all over again. This teacher should have made Teacher of the Year nationally. I remembered! It was so easy, that I wish math and science would have been recommended for girls back in the day. In my day it was Home Economics, and I protested it by leading the team and making our theme chocolate for everything, pancakes, whatever. I wanted to take Shop but I was a girl and even went to the Principal but was disallowed because of my gender. I could make a pie, but not a lamp.

That was years ago but if we had a lot of money I’d toss it in a foundation for math and science and reward the teachers, then the students with impartial judges as to teacher and student qualifications. The emphasis would be for women to learn early on that they can write software, do any job guys do for three times more than you can make. Thank you Mr. Burgoon (grade school), and Tigger, for a bit of math. Cheers, Dee

ps Many thanks to my husband, who is great at physics lessons on the road (what kind of smoke is this and what does this factory make) who makes me admire the math geeks. Hey, I’m married to one and try not to take long car trips with him, the dog is more quiet and in back…… D

 

 

Tokens

I don’t know if you remember subway tokens. They took up your pocket or purse. Turnstiles and tokens.

Now I’ve an issue with the new chip reader machines. With some I have to leave a card in there for up to five minutes and always worry I’ll leave it behind. My husband made sure I’ve a photo of our dog on that card and I certainly do not wish to leave her behind, ever.

Most days I took lunch to school. I didn’t like it. Usually a bologna and cheese sandwich because I never enjoyed PB&J like the other kids.

Moms were given the option of buying monthly tokens for lunch and a separate token for milk. It was thirty-five cents for a horrible hot lunch of rubbery “cube steak,” and a two cent token for a cup of regular milk. My allowance was fifty cents per week. No, I didn’t trade tokens for money.

If I got a hot lunch and milk, I splurged and may have spent two cents per week for chocolate milk (it was three cents when regular milk was a two-cent token). Many years later, I buy this chocolate milk every once in a while to have in the frig. Sometimes my husband even has a glass.

In a day where I can take a photo with my cell phone and have a chip card in my wallet I don’t need tokens but they remind me of childhood.

This post is dedicated to a retired architect and his wife, a feminist and advocate. They move out (next street over) today. We’ve been neighbors for nearly five years and they check on me every week as my husband is off on business a lot. They will be missed. I am making them a special lasagne they can just pop into their new oven and have dinner ready in a jiffy.

We’re down two Swedish families. One single guy taught me Kottsbullar (pronounced Shots BULL-are) that are Swedish meatballs. I taught him true Texas chili. We believe he met the love of his life here and they’re probably married now. Last time we talked he’d taken her home to meet Dad and it went well.

I flew to Texas to meet my future-in-laws. Sweden is serious, and I love G’s father, got to go to botanical gardens and art museums with him and loved driving him around town. We still have one Swedish family we know, with two young boys who love balloons. Yes, my husband twists balloons when he’s not saving huge companies from software issues. He orders the balloons from ….. Sweden.  Cheers! Dee

Validation

Amazon now has its own truck service. Problem is, they don’t know addresses or where to park.

We buy a lot from Amazon because my husband is on the road for business and we don’t wish to spend weekends out shopping.

Yesterday a new driver was here with a package for a sister address. I was in the lobby awaiting the “manager” and reading the newspapers. He asked where the sister address was located. I told him.

He went to walk out the door and I said, “but all their packages get delivered here.” He told me he’d have to talk to the manager on that issue. I said I’d been here longer than the manager and I know all the packages are kept here in a secure room.

She walked in, with her fabulous outfit and jewelry and simply said “what she said.” How I love my little “sister,” yes, the manager.

If Amazonliness is near to Godliness, heaven forbid you don’t give GPS to your drivers or have them know the neighborhoods they serve. Perhaps you can hire the USPS to give them a primer.

If Amazon wants to give us gift certificates or something for our birthdays we’re six weeks apart, I’m Scorpio and she is a Sagittarius. I think we work well together, and between us we kept him from another drive or two, and a pricy parking ticket. We’ll both be of a certain age and she always looks better than me and it’s not just that I’m in dog walking clothes. We both look good in jewel tones. Cheerily, Dee

Looking Out, Looking In

Today was a gorgeous day. Blue skies, a few clouds, lake and sailboats probably going home to “roost” for the winter that is to come.

There were strong winds and I can’t believe the window washers were allowed to hang from the roof. The result was spectacular. No more spider webs and dying/dead trapped insects.

As I do every year when they’re here (their work boots and suction clamps alert Zoe there are intruders) I take her out on the balcony and introduce her and tell her these are her friends. They’re visitors. Later on when they moved to other windows they waved to us.

I asked them to be careful, as the winds were heady. Our views improved incredibly and seeing out the non-spider-webbed windows and seeing sailboats on the crystal blue water made my day.

Now, I wonder what they saw. They waved at us. What do they think of the people who live here? Are residents neat, messy, naked, ironing, cooking, at the computer paying bills? Are we nice, nasty or do we just dismiss them as people who don’t matter?

My father used to take me to the tobacco store in our small village and I’d sniff tobacco from glass jars (same as I do today with Penzey’s herbs) while he talked to the owner or clerk. He “schmoozed” every waitress he ever met. No, I don’t smoke, just love the smell of pipe tobacco. I don’t drink coffee either but love the scent of the grounds and do go to Starbucks occasionally, but only for herbal tea and a muffin.

People help us all day long, I’ve known many postal service personnel over my adult lifetime, plus UPS, Fed Ex. We now have a concierge, security and maintenance. Yes, I cook for all of them, tastings and treats. If the dog needs to go out at three a.m. I feel safe taking her.

Tomorrow I make a farewell lasagne for our neighbors. They called us over here (telepathic) nearly five years ago and although they’re older he always checks in on me weekly. They’re moving down the street this week. I hope we still get to see them and I promised them a lasagne to pop into the oven their first night. I’m thinking of putting baby arugula and marinated gigante beans into the cheese layer. It’s a veggie lasagne, they don’t cook and may want some protein and veg.

We neighbors try to take care of each other, and I say hello, good morning, how’s the weather to everyone. And I open and hold the door. Not for long as the dog and I are getting older and the winds are stronger.

It is clear, dark and nearly midnight. I’m leaving the blinds up tonight so I can watch the sunrise tomorrow and then close up to save the art I’ve spent a lifetime not making, I’m not that talented, but framing. What is life but memories. My father took up painting at age 80. I’ve three of his works, all exquisitely framed and hung in our home. I’ve been outside our childhood homes for many years, his paintings of Tuscany and New Zealand allow me to see him. Dee

 

Eldest, Wing Ma’am

Yes, I am, but not with a flock of fledgelings. They’re all grown up now. When we meet, we meet. We all cook well and enjoy rare time together.

Yes, there are responsibilities, one of which is to cede to whomever is better for a certain task. As big sis, I tend to know the traits of my younger siblings and am confident in all the family tasks they have taken on with me as a “wing ma’am.”

We’re all older now and take on different duties. What I need to do is probably send a parachute out of a plane one day (it will not include me unless all of us agree to sky dive) with kid stuff and letters from whatever bad memories of childhood remain. I used steel wool on my father’s paint to get off the tar. Whoops! My sister and I coated the basement with water to clean it, with his favorite horsehair brush. Oh, and we flooded it. Sorry!

No. Scratch that airplane thought. My horrible new ACA health care premium company (not marketplace) won’t pay for an ER visit when my head was spurting blood. Humana said because it was only my head spurting blood it was not a danger to life and limb and just charged me 9K to not diagnose me and give me unnecessary medical procedures. I need to get a new health care company even though we’ve tons of other insurance if I want to go para-sailing or jump out of a plane.

I had a large growth they never looked for. It was later diagnosed by a professional, excised, biopsied and was benign. I was healed. Now InHumana is denying everything. Remember the movie with Matt Damon, Danny DeVito and Great Benefits? I bled all weekend so couldn’t see the doc until she could see my eye. If this is the new health care system I’d rather a high-priced insurer who actually pays a valid claim. They’ve denied the majority of my surgery and biopsy as well.

Right now (or ever) I don’t want to jump on a plane because of TSA, or jump out of one. My husband is away for three weeks and the dog is depressed. She misses the fun guy. So do I. Everything will work out. Dee

ps Please never call me ma’am. A grocery clerk called me Miss the other day and I think I was just over the moon! Thanks, D

Snoring… or Not

I am a mother. Yes, a mother of a husband and dog. No, I am a wife and a dog owner. I’m the food wench.

The difficulties lie in degrees. If my husband is deeply snoring, I cannot sleep. I go and lie on the sofa with a blanket. When he stops snoring I can try to go back to bed. My first thought is that he is not breathing, so I check. Fifteen years ago I could control and monitor his breathing. Now, as he’s gone much of the time for business he doesn’t care about breathing, even farting, because he’s in a hotel by himself.

Every day I don’t see him is not a life. Fifteen years ago last week we had our first date. Anthony Hopkins’ Hearts in Atlantis, and Mexican food.

When I can’t hear him I’m right there and know that he is alive and breathing and I can take a breath as well.

Same with our old dog Zoe. Sometimes I wonder if she is breathing after I’ve lifted her up to our bed. I place my hand on her chest and know she’s OK for now.

Now he’s on a business trip and Zoe wants to get put back up to bed. She checks on me as well. I miss his company and snoring. I love to see Zoe awaken in REM sleep to chase squirrels. Life is all around us. Enjoy it. Dee

ps Gotta go. Zoe needs Otis (me) the elevator person to get her back to bed after she jumped down to make sure I was breathing. I was writing, little one! I can write and breathe at the same time. She’s back up, Otis’ed, so I must go. When I can not hear my husband snoring, I miss him. D

It’s Not Fair

I know, nothing is fair. Love and life, war, strife. Having a meal or not being able to find one.

We are about to choose the leader of the nation based on political attacks.

I have made my choice. Bob Newhart will be President. VP will be Whoopie Goldberg as I always wanted a VP named Whoopie. Sorry, VP Goldberg as you’ll have to go to a lot of funerals.

Secretary of State is Robert Klein. UN Ambassador is Meryl Streep as she speaks all the languages and is a consummate actor.

Chief of staff is up for grabs. Go for it. Dee

ps. It’s not up for grabs, Chief of Staff is Bob Dylan. Joan Baez is head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the military.

pps Jane Fonda is head of the Afghanistan project but that’s CIA so you know, and whoops, did I say CIA?

ppps Jimmy Buffett is head of the Manatee Program, sorry CIA, I blew it again. I’ll stop now. No, I can’t.

Cheech and Chong are doing everything that has anything to do with TSA.

The people who become famous for becoming famous, the Kardashians, are in charge of busting anyone who wants to have tv shows as bad as their shows. They are the new J Edgar Hoover. OK I’ll ‘splain it to you, it’s the FBI. You’re in charge of reality TV shows.

Who is the CIA? Can you help me with this?  It is anyone who went to prep school, any Ivy League school. Secret societies. All I can guess is that you play tennis and golf because you’ve never worked a day in your life, just sail to get away from the life you do not live. D

 

 

A Decadent Brunch

My husband gets to be home on weekends. Saturday I made him Eggs Benedict. He talked me through the Hollandaise as I haven’t made it since cooking school. I think I used every pot and pan we have.

Making it American, I sauteed American speck (no extra fat was added to the pan) to place on the muffin, just watch it in the pan so it doesn’t burn. It was quite salty. If there is a next time for this decadent dish, it will have true Italian prosciutto.

My husband also got to put down the toast every couple of minutes, of course they were English muffins! After the sauce was done I placed eggs in simmering water with vinegar.

Plating was muffin, speck, egg and Hollandaise. Tasty, rich. We got lazy for the rest of the day and he had me watch a movie I didn’t like so I had him watch the last few moments of a cooking show.

Today I must make burgers for lunch and Beef Carbonnade for dinner. Right now I took the dog out, fed her and lifted her back up to bed. He’s there, I am not. Both she and he need to sleep. Cheers! Dee

Rounding Things Out

No-one ever taught me this. I’ve just kind of taught myself.

Sometimes it doesn’t work at all. My neighbors are expecting a baby, their first, any day now and I saw that they had a package, as did we, so I asked if I could take it up for them. No, that’s against Security. I pick up my older neighbors’ prescriptions downstairs all the time, with no concern about security. I love them, knock on their door and deliver. That’s the benefit of being out with a dog five times a day!

Normally, I round out meals. I grew up with three square meals a day and my mother always made dessert for after dinner. My concerns are more in balancing tastes, flavors, textures, color, and guests. For whom am I cooking and what plates, linens, to use; family style plating? If the Texas side is coming by to see July 4 fireworks it’s my beans in a crock pot, steak and ribs on the grill, potato salad and my Celebration Cole Slaw. Yes, they’re all served on the “bar” in handmade Italian serving platters and bowls we were given for our wedding nearly 14 years ago.

Today I am learning to round things out with flowers, but made a misstep. I picked out my flowers and colors and decided to arrange them myself. Daisies, football mums, purple chrysanthemum star variety I’d say, and the same alstroemeria I had in my wedding bouquet. I bought a bouquet that was already made for the dining table, one flowering Kale for the kitchen counter and my sorry bouquet.

It just looked kind of naked so I went back to the shop and bought two thistles for height and color (and our love of Scotland), and two sprigs of greens. Voila! It looks beautiful. I rounded it out in color, height and a bit of oomph.

This is a relatively new floral business that has moved to our neighborhood. I love them and they’ve always been good to me. Today I thought I’d tell them I may have a large corporate account and over 500 potential customers in the neighborhood. When later I was sold the simple greens and thistles I bought a small vase and a beautiful dahlia for the person will be making floral decisions. We’re friends, Irish “sisters” six weeks apart. She placed the shop’s cards out for people to see, an action I may regret.

The person who sold me two vases and greens and thistles told me she could not place water in a vase for me to carry home. I asked for a teaspoon of water for the dahlia in a vase I bought from her. She said no and that Friday was “cash and carry” only. No water allowed.

So much for trying to round things out. Five hundred potential customers vs. one teaspoon of water denied by an ornery clerk. Shame on you! There is something to be said for being kind to all customers, especially “regulars,” and promoting the business. Denying me a teaspoon of water or even a wet paper towel for the stem sends me a sign and it is not a good one. I went to a shop twice in one day, spent money, and asked for their cards to be placed visibly in the community, and was denied a teaspoon of water. Do I really need to pay for a tsp. of water? She didn’t ask me that, just said “no.”

I’ve rarely seen it before but what goes around, comes around. I’ve worked for people and folks have worked me. I am and have always been a team player. I’ve no patience for braggarts, divas or slackers. I’ve rounded things out on athletic teams, with clients, and with taking leadership in volunteer roles as a trustee and as a hands on worker.

Walk the walk. Well, my hips are frail so I’ll try to keep up. Round something out, whether it’s the Day Old Pastries band or whatever! Dee