Category Archives: Editorial

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She Sleeps

Probably 20 hours per day which is why she is so gorgeous at 84 in “people years.” People think she’s a pup because she’s so happy and energetic.

Zoe’s worried about me so will probably be a foot away from me any moment now in my office. She never stays this close. Worries about the food wench leaving earth must be there.

All I want is proof of health insurance we paid for, they haven’t cashed the check or given the broker a number or temporary cards. My husband leaves overseas tomorrow and he has a scan of a temporary international insurance policy that we purchased outside of health insurance. I asked him to print it and take it with him because he cannot use his new iPhone for anything over there.

We went through this health insurance debacle last month where we talked to the folks, submitted the information and we had to cancel the check because this employer would not answer our phone calls or cash our check or give us the insurance we agreed on.

I’m getting tired of trying to get COBRA or private insurance. The broker says they’re working on it but it’s too late to even FedEx my husband a temporary insurance card.

Zoe jumped off the bed (her front quarters are good, I have to “Otis”her back up in a moment.) She is a foot away from me again. Husband’s gone so she has to herd someone. That would be me.

This new ACA health insurance deal is being manipulated by insurance companies to gain health insurance for people who need federal assistance with payments, not for the private market. I couldn’t get anyone at a major company we’ve been with to answer the phone. It’s not surprising as that’s what they always do. Profits, no service. Par for the course. Hey, I worked insurance law back in the day. “Will Increase Premiums” was all they said. But we did get Well Baby Care done even with that caveat and it has helped families, and insurance companies, over many years.

Let’s fix it, not let things lie. Let Zoe go back and get her beauty sleep. I’m worried about things. She’s worried about me and we both care about my husband, the fun guy. I’m only the disciplinarian and food wench. Dee

 

 

Being “By”

Aunt L used those words but now after many years I know what they mean. No dictionary over the downstairs “loo” taught me this. Yes, when I emerged I had to define a word, spell it and use it in a sentence.

When my husband is home he’s always by, and when our Zoe knows I’m in danger she’s a foot away. She’s by.

Husband is away. Zoe’s “by” right behind my desk chair. She’s worried about me.

She is such an intuitive dog that should have been allowed as a therapy dog. She is so great with adults, kids, other dogs, even cats. Why dis-allowed? She eats raw food. She can’t even work in a hospice because she eats raw food. It’s the only thing she’ll eat. I won’t change it.

She’s taking care of me now. I love her and so do our neighbors’ grandkids. When they visit they knock on the door and tire this  84  (people years) year old pup out. I love them for their interest and enthusiasm. And they each got a trophy in soccer this year. Yea!

We love each other and love life, whatever comes our way. As I “Otis” Zoe to the bed each night, we’re by, always. Cheers from D&Z my hipless wonder dog

What Goes Around

comes around. My mother never liked me, from the day I was conceived. The eldest child meant back in the day that she had to stick around and wear dresses, high hair and heels to vacuum. That meant no college until I went to college, of course she was Summa Cum Laude and I was Dean’s List with a 3.8.

Before hospice care at which all four of us were there along with my husband, Mom asked me to do something about tissue.

I arranged for her eye tissue to be donated after her death at her request. My siblings fought me on this again, as they did her priest for Last Rites, but she asked me to do this for her. They took her body just under the time wire and were able to gain tissue before she was removed from their facility and cremated.

I’m losing eye tissue now, Mom, due to a fall on the pavement last year. Thanks for donating yours and following my lead and caring for therapy dogs. Cheers! Dee

Pack Leader

I am the pack leader at home. Not when the “fun guy” my husband comes home for a day or two. I am the dog walker and food wench, and disciplinarian. She’s 12. 84 in “people years.” So, she’s older than me.

Zoe the dog is going in this weekend for blood tests and shots and a general exam from her vet who now does acupuncture. Cool, that’s why I chose this practice. Oh, Zoe had her hips excised as a pup, severe hip dysplasia in a 24 lb. pup.

I’m wondering how difficult it is for people, adults with enough money to afford it, to get health insurance through ACA, non-subsidised. Insurers we’ve had will not answer the phone unless one wants a marketplace plan with subsidies. After one company screwed us, accepting a check after several phone conversations, not cashing said check then never returning a phone call means there are holes in ACA. After we did much research we found a broker who is setting us up. Why is my dog’s lifetime, tattered health care folder larger than mine?

I cancelled that check and it’s back in our HSA account. As to the dog question, we pay cash and will do so this weekend for her senior blood panel and shots. No-one will offer insurance for our hip-less wonder dog. I think pet insurance is a crap shoot anyway. I chose her vet for a reason, acupuncture, acupressure as Zoe ages. Yes, research.

Do research for everything. I do it for a few things and my husband is the ultimate consumer. I find places to live and he vets things to buy. We’ve been married over a decade and he told his parents to get us a Kitchenaid food processor for an elopement gift because his detailed research said it was better than competitors. I agree and have been using it for years.

I have my pack. Keeping it together is stressful with my husband gone to work elsewhere all the time. I never know what to cook when he comes home. If he’s eating beef all the time I want to change it up and make it homey as he only eats in restaurants.

Zoe and I are home. We want him here. We miss him. Dee

 

What She Brings

is way more than we ever could have expected.  Of course Zoe is a herder. She is so kind with adults, kids, other dogs and in her lifetime has always liked cats as well. Sorry, two mice digging out from winter snow out west.

She’s getting old but is healthy. I’m calling her vet to ask if she needs more that the kennel cough vaccine as to a postcard reminder.  Another senior blood panel may not be warranted as yet.

I’ll check my Dallas vet. She’s my husband’s cousin, who excised Zoe’s hips as a pup. Yes, our Zoe had the worst hip dysplasia in a 24 lb. pup she’d ever seen on an x-ray. She grew her own hips and at age 12 is 32 lbs. They never made hips for dogs under 6o lbs. back then so we had to give our girl a chance. I don’t know what she could do today but back then when she recovered she could corner around a tree, get a ball, bring it back to me and the Retriever or Lab would be looking around clueless. Who got the ball?

Hips from one’s own cartilage. It took a while to heal. When she stole a pound of prime steak off our counter I thanked my husband for putting it away because he doesn’t go into my kitchen except to get ice or Dr. Pepper and he said “I didn’t do it” then we looked at Zoe and she was licking her paws. We laughed.

Zoe brings joy to our days, life to our years. Everyone in the neighborhood knows her name (not usually mine) and they introduce their kids and dogs to her, knowing that she is cute and friendly.

In olden days she, at age 84 in “people years” may be called the Grand Dame, the highest status, but she is a dog. I prefer to call her my, our, Zoe and leave it at that. She herds us in the house and makes friends with everyone out on a walk. She brings love to our home and life and is family. Please adopt and spay/neuter. Cheers from D and Z

ps Thanks to Nathan, Chani and Mick Dundee (Mickey) as well. They were also my rescues over the past years I worked in shelters and spay/neuter clinics.

pps Someone asked me while I was volunteering at a community services event for a shelter showing a pup years ago why I was so mean that I couldn’t adopt this cute puppy. I told her if adopt all of the unwanted and strays that would be an untenable situation. I’ve had four wonderful pets over 30 years.

I Bought Him Flowers

My husband, a small bunch of pink and yellow tulips in vase overlooking the lake. He flew in Saturday afternoon for a steak and baked potato dinner.

Easter Sunday we took it easy, I’d gotten a rack of lamb the day before and marinated it in olive oil, salt and pepper, sprigs of fresh thyme and leaves of rosemary all day. I forgot the garlic, the entire head was in a bowl elsewhere.

Simple roasted rack of lamb, boiled red potatoes with butter and seasonings, and a salad with his favorite vinaigrette, no, not mine from a half dozen acids including several vinegars and fresh lemon and extra virgin olive oil, he wants bottled ranch dressing so he got that one.

It was a good weekend. Perhaps Texas Chili and my Ten-Minute Lasagne (on the site) next weekend. As a young girl or young adult you could always see me reading cookbooks and helping out if I was allowed to do so.

Thanks to all who helped me learn how to cook, from a very young age to caterers to college (I cooked for all my roommates) to work, work, work, then cooking schools. I thank everyone for contributing to my education.

Recently unable to sleep or really read because of an eye issue I’ve been up at night watching/listening to The Mind of a Chef, brainchild of Anthony Bourdain, and Michael Pollan’s concise and interesting distillation of his book Cooked.

It is fascinating to learn more about cultures, flavors, icky things I may never like to eat (not on the show but I never had haggis in Scotland) but Chef Pollan brought something to light. Many folks I know never cook a thing. I cook three meals a day plus feed and take my dog out, another thing people hire out.

Yes, my sink nearly fell below because the glue that held it together was not strong enough. Why? It’s a double sink and I use it many times a day and do hand-wash certain special dishes, large pots and pans and wash my hands. In the years we’ve been here no-one has seen this happen, because no-one cooks.

Dear Michael Pollan,

I like the way you pull people in instead of push them to feed their family healthy, home-cooked foods. For nearly thirty years I’ve shopped the outer aisles of the grocery store. I barely know my produce folks because they change out all the time but I bring my Texas Chili (Pedernales riff, of course no beans) to my butchers. Yes, I’ve a meat grinder on my 28 year Kitchenaid and at my age move it across the kitchen to put on the grinder.

I graduated PKU, Peter Kump’s which is now ICE.

I pick out all my 4# of hand-chosen meat (sale days are great) and take it down and do a Texas grind. The rest of it is up to the onions, garlic and spices. You may want to look up Lady Bird Johnson’s Pedernales River Chili that was served in 1962 for 5,000 guests at the Ranch west of Austin. The guest list included JFK. If you look up the Lyndon Johnson Presidential Museum it’s on the site, or just Google it.

It’s very generic as a recipe because they don’t have what we do today and I’ll never use “chili powder,” so make my own from Penzey’s. This recipe was the most requested White House document in 1962 before JFK was killed.

Sharing this information is important to our future. Cooking made us human. Shopping at a grocery store for microwave or ready-made foods is ok a day or two a week but it probably means you’re at the TV and spouse is online and the kiddos never got to have dinner with their family.

Caring for one’s family is most important. Don’t tell your kids how many hours you had to work this week.  Tell them you’re having what I’ve done for kids, MYOP night. I make pizza dough in advance but if they’re not my kids (we don’t have kids) I always have them make a ball of dough before they get tired to take home and rise in the frig for tomorrow.

Kids roll out their own dough and top their own pizzas with anything from caramelized onions and anchovies, tomato and plain mozz, pepperoni and it runs the gamut from sauteed spinach, roasted garlic………

 

The Rules

I love my aunts. They kept the Oxford English Dictionary above the loo in the powder room. I was expected to open to any page and find a word I didn’t know. Then after I left the loo I had to pronounce the word, spell it, define it and use it in a sentence.

The other set of Aunt rules (I had many more at home with my parents dealing with chores) was to taste before asking what was in a recipe.

Taste things. I think I stop at crickets and monkey brains, not that they did any of that. They just wanted us to expand our palates and did so. Aunts L and J helped me to learn to love Roquefort cheese and many other things.

They helped me learn and made me smart literally, culturally and with food. Thank you so much. One Aunt recently sent me a crayon drawing from age five that I sent her, of the Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz, with tiny me (Dorothy) on the back of the lion.

She told me it needed to be framed. I did so and it is my husband’s favorite work of “art.” Knowledge is why we help family members go to private schools. Hearing the brain “click” when we get something or figure out who we (not what we) will be in life took me a long time to figure out.

If my Aunts were not here for me I would not be the me that I am as I am always seeing if they would approve this missive. Much of the time they will not as I am usually profligate with parentheses and commas. I probably would have failed that course but done OK with Romeo and Juliet.

For nine years I’ve had a blog. I wouldn’t have had the courage to write without my Aunts. Thank you. With love from Dee

Childhood Rituals

As young girls my mother and her sisters would climb to the seven churches of Montreal, ending with the one where crippled kids and adults would crawl up hundreds of steps to shed their crutches and walk back down. I am a bit dubious of that.

After I and my sister were born we went through the traditional Catholic education and Mass every Sunday. Mom used to make us sit on the sofa while she read The Passion on Good Friday. Why they called it “good” I never learned.

On Easter Sunday we’d get a small gift, the only one I can remember is that we received matching Keds red plaid sneakers. Of course we could not wear them to Mass. Get your Easter dresses, socks and shoes, girls. Don’t forget your hats and white gloves or we’ll be late! I think after church we each got a small hollow chocolate bunny. Probably after dinner so it wouldn’t spoil our appetites. That’s how I remember it.

It’s interesting that as a private cook I don’t remember what we ate after church. Probably ham. I think I was five or six with the sneakers, because of where we were living and photos I recall. Mom’s no longer around to correct me and I’m certain Dad doesn’t remember such a small childhood moment.

We will not read The Passion of Christ this year. I may even cook lamb for dinner. There will be no church service of any sort, my husband’s or mine. I get to see him nearly two days per week. I believe we pray quietly on our own, and do not need a priest or preacher to guide us. If we do, we will ask for one.

My father was cut out of my weekends because when my parents married the Priest made him promise to make us kids Catholic. He was Lutheran. Oh, they could sing. My husband was introduced to an individually-organized Texas church and just went to a service with his parents last weekend. No choirs, only single voices, and no dancing. What fun is that?

Do you wonder why we eloped with six friends? Wine vs. iced tea, dancing or not. It would have been a disaster. Plus my parents were divorced after many years. Mom is gone for years and Dad is older and ill. They never met my in-laws but know/knew my husband. Perhaps we’ll ask the Lord to renew our vows before family. In the Easter festiveness, please do not send me red plaid Keds. Dee

“Lite”

I’ve always hated that word. When my English teacher aunts allowed me to use their powder room there was the OED atop the loo. I was expected to take out the dictionary, learn a word, spell it and use it in a sentence.

They would be horrified that the non-word “lite” has become common verbiage.

Years later my colleague and house-mate knew where to go for free food. Insurance industry Monday with Oysters Rockefeller. Tuesday was free tacos at the judge’s and lawyers’ pub, you get the picture.

She actually put a banana in her purse once. We were working crazy hours with no pay. For a week we decided to get frozen food that was low in calories.

It tasted OK but in the end she said “two of these might make a dinner.” We agreed and haven’t been in touch for a while but I love her and her family for making me a better person, and cook. Yes, her brother has stories about me making tapenade for a party and the assistant I sent to the store didn’t get pitted olives, get it? He was bringing up a keg and caught me. My food processor was not happy with olive pits.

If there was ever a family I wanted to know it was this one. And when we all, about 20, went camping I brought utensils. seasonings et al. The guys went out early morning and thankfully gutted the trout they had caught. I had my flour and seasonings and I cooked it up for everyone and it’s some of the best fish I’ve ever had.

Some are memories and camaraderie, some taste memories of the freshest fish I’ve ever cooked and eaten (with a hand pump and a loo across the way). It was a good weekend. I’m glad I brought ingredients. That’s me, Dee

 

Dead or Alive

I prefer alive. The tulips I bought last weekend and refreshed yesterday with the florist’s care are going strong. The purples, yellows and white pink look beautiful. Spring at 36 degrees outside.

Yes, they will die, as will I but not today. Today is for my family, as our dog Zoe would say, her pack. I have to get back to my pack. Cheers, Dee