Category Archives: Editorial

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Park Bench, Spring Day

It’s the first warm day of the year and the birds are singing. There are two benches at the Park overlooking the lake.

My mission was to see how much mud there was under each bench to see if we (me and the dogs) could sit there a few moments without going through bath routines and towels and laundry for each dog then an extra shower for me after them. Yikes!

Both benches were occupied, one by an older man reading a book, the other by a young couple with a baby in a stroller. The dogs took me behind the family’s bench and wanted to say hello.

I asked the baby’s name and the wind came up and I thought they said Lacey. No, it’s Langston. Oh, I said, like Langston Hughes the poet? Yes. We conversed for a moment and I let them be, in the sun, on a park bench overlooking a lake on the first warm Spring day.

We’ll try again later on today. Now the dogs are sleeping less than a foot from each other, at my feet, at my desk. Zoe hears everything and is very protective of her gorgeous “little sister.” That’s my girl, the herder.

“I have discovered in life that there are ways of getting almost anywhere you want to go, if you really want to go.” Langston Hughes, RIP

All the best from poets, social reformers and those who do good every day, Dee

 ps I just love hearing the birds sing and wonder what menus I’ll have planned for my husband this weekend. Taxes. Bark at the tax man, doggies! Oh, you’re sound asleep until I start making lunch…… D

Quiet Time

There are some times when you look at your life, enjoy memories from view, taste or even photos of relatives and friends.

As we always go to Nanny’s on Thanksgiving after dinner all the other guys were watching A&M vs. UT. They’re all A$M (intended) so it’s a big deal.

I was looking for my husband and he was in the formal living room alone, lying on the floor because his back was bothering him. I offered to help, nothing but OTC pain reliever, so I laid down on the sofa and held his hand. The light was waning outside and we had no lights except the Christmas tree. Next thing you know, the five Grands (six if you include me, adopted into the clan) all laid on the floor like J and told stories, some that were sad and others that made the laughter almost make you want to fall onto the floor.

Like the time J’s cousins pretended to be a girl in grade school coming by to ask J to marry her. He agreed to be put down the laundry chute instead of answering the door. Of course it was a cousin that was ringing the door bell. I laughed ’til crying.

At one point a child ran by and his mom was lying on the floor. Normally she would have gotten up. Child said “he disrespected me!!!” She laid there and said “work it out.” The cousin disrespecting him was three times his size. They all worked it out and get along.

We have so many stories. I do. Don’t talk about the laundry chute. My husband may be a few years younger but is bigger and taller and they’re cousins and good friends. Here’s to family! Dee

You say Pot-ay-to

I say po-tah-to. Let’s call the whole thing off.

At 19 I got a college apartment with five other gals. First day I made dinner and said I had to be on a corner because I’m leftie and don’t want to elbow anyone in the ribs. They were ALL lefties. We got our own softball team named Lefties, Inc. and made it to the finals because nobody showed up for our games! Of course I was pitcher.

That first night we found out no-one knew how to cook, anything. I think cereal and milk might have been a challenge. I said they had to learn breakfast, eat lunch at the college cafeteria and I’d make dinner every night.

Caveats were that I would provide a list and they would shop. I would prep and cook, they would set the table, clean up and do dishes.

Then one day three other gals came to live with us (one bulimic, so enlightening to see all the food in our frig going down the toilet) and two guys from upstairs who came over to play Uno most evenings started staying for dinner so I was cooking for eleven with a budget for six. That was probably $60 per week. With the others we stretched it to $120.

I asked the gals to get me a 50# bag of potatoes. They came back and said cans were on sale for $.20 apiece. The list was going to pieces. I decided to drive the cart and the list and they could grab things off the shelves as I called them out. It worked.

We ate simple food. Mom’s pasta with a bit of beef, noodles and tomato sauce, chicken thighs with caramelized onions, occasionally a dessert. I never washed a dish, spoon, pot or pan in that place. They were happy. I was happy.

My mother was not happy because mise en place (everything in its’ place before cooking) allowed me to cook but use every dish in her place while visiting, then I had to clean everything!

Hey, Guy Fieri, when I was 19 I could have excelled at Grocery Games! Now I go daily to a high-end grocery and choose what I want as to what is fresh. Fruits, shishito peppers, lemongrass. And my butchers are beyond compare. Don’t ask, Guy. I’m too old to run with a cart.  And my old dog would have to be outside the window asking for me to be eliminated so I could take her home to Napping Dog Press. Cheers! Dee

Gotcha!

When I met my husband over 14 years ago he’d been dot-bombed, his company laid off over 1/3 of the work force. Last hired, first fired. They actually left “fire staff” as a to do item on a white board then left the conference room open. That made everyone’s weekend enjoyable…..To cut his losses, three weeks after we met he went back home.

Two weeks later he was back and staying with relatives. I found him a home 1,000 feet from mine. He couldn’t visit me (tried once in a Darth Vader voice/mask for dinner but it didn’t last five minutes) because he’s deathly allergic to cats. So I moved part of my kitchen to his place, as I’ve a well-appointed kitchen, then part of my office, then when we eloped, all of me and my stuff. The cat went to live with a Corgi neighbor he loved for years. The Corgi used to put Mickey’s entire head in his mouth, very gently. Yep, Mick did love him. All the dogs used to come by, even run away from home, to see Mick. I’d get a call early morning. “Is he there?” Hold on. Yep. I’ll take your dog inside and watch for your car.

J and I met three weeks after 9/11. He was back on Thanksgiving and starting early January with his new job and abode he liked to come home for lunch. He had an hour, so it was a 12-minute commute each way, lunch, and he’d snooze for about ten minutes while I did dishes before heading back.

One day I was making grilled cheese sandwiches and he walked in and said, “so that’s how you do it!” It was like my college roommates being startled that I could make brownies or mac & cheese from scratch!

The kicker was when I was kind of settling into his kitchen and he walked in one lunch time and I’d been washing plastic zip bags (never those in which meat or cheese were stored) and storing them over the sink and appliances to dry.

We did meet all the parents before we wed but he’d only met my mother at that point. The first thing I thought of was to grab all the wet plastic zip bags and stow them. All that went through mind those few seconds was “what would his mother do?” Well, it turns out my mother-in-law is a salt of the earth, frugal, industrious woman who thinks nothing of re-using things. Phew!

In other words, I did good, and gained a husband for life. He’s with his family, parents and grandmother, this weekend. Sometimes one does the right thing for the right reasons. I washed those bags and have created a food snob. He’s visiting his Nanny. I should say “our” Nanny because after our pre-engagement interview I told her I was so glad the “grands” had a Nanny. I never knew mine, grandmothers or one grandfather. So she offered to be mine. What a kind lady she is. With love for family, spouse, kids, pets and more, Dee

True Grit

Yes, Kim Darby, John Wayne and Glen Campbell. I haven’t researched it but it must have been the breakout film for one of my favorite actors, Robert Duvall. He can also carry a tune.

It was my first time on a plane and first trip to The Big Apple. We went to see True Grit the day it opened on a big screen in Radio City Music Hall. During intermission my sister and I sat in the men’s room “lounge” until I figured out there were all men in there. We were waiting for Dad. Oops.

I saw a bit of it today and remember that trip as if it was yesterday. The big screen was amazing, as are flat screens and we don’t have a big one but do have HD, today.

Two rooms. Overlooking other rooms in a cheap Howard Johnsons near Times Square that was crime central. Three single beds for me, my younger sister, age 8, and brother, age three. He ordered hot chocolate on the plane and took a big gulp. Yes, it was hot so he spewed it all over the place.

It gets better. We lived in a village of 400 people, perhaps 1,000 when college was in session. In NYC my mother was visibly pregnant with my youngest sister. She was taking us on our first subway to see the sights while Dad was working. My brother asked about the “chocolate people” on the subway. Actually, they laughed and gave my mother a seat. We had never seen a Black person and I knew at age ten not to ask. My brother did.

True Grit. Radio City Music Hall. This was 1969. Dad bought my brother, age three, a Brooks Brothers navy suit. We walked by St. Patrick’s Cathedral and my brother told me everyone was looking at him. There were two lesbians 20′ in front of us kissing passionately.

I asked if anyone was staring at them. “No,” he said. “Then why would they be staring at you?”

It was an adventure in all senses, first plane, and True Grit was not age-appropriate for ages ten, eight and three but this trip is remembered and loved. With cheers from Dee.

ps Oh, we’ll have a neighbor joining me and Zoe tonight for a week or so and I’ll need to set up for Zoe’s little “sister,” as they do act like sisters. New dual leash to set up and we tested it last weekend and made modifications in terms of adding binder clips to keep Zoe from taking two thirds of the leash. Our guest has been here several times before so I’ve got the food routine down, if the new dual leash works and I tweak it according to their needs (so they serpentine on a swivel ahead of me, with each other rather than going around me) all will be well. D

pps I usually awaken to a song, in my head. Today it was The Wichita Lineman, thank you Glen Campbell and thanks for True Grit.

Teacher

Yes, that is what I am and have been for years. I would like to give a gift to my nephew. It’ll take a while to put together. Ten recipes with instructions and completed with whatever is needed to finish the dish.

I know that he’s going to be OK but as he needs to eat while getting an education I may have to go to our local university to check out dorm rooms. Plus, he has to wow the girl of his dreams, whoever she may be.

Years ago my father, as a gift, brought a psychic to dinner to read my fortune. She said I was a teacher. I am, a leader, visionary and teacher since I was a child.

Going to cooking school has enlightened me and I worry about college students eating food that is not good for them or their education. Hopefully college moms (hear me PDXKnitterati) will help on this quest. Few ingredients, pots or pans, healthy and fast. No, not just ramen noodles….. Cheers! Dee

 

 

Life

I’m thinking of a salty, sweet, hot and tangy Udon noodle salad with shrimp. Perhaps for lunch.

The rest of this week will be spent on insurance and taxes. Next week is our future.

As I’ve trouble now and then with my tummy I went vegan years ago and found out what I was allergic to as I re-introduced ingredients. Now, as mostly a meat-eterian (plus starch and veg) I need protein.

Yes, I do always have veg and fruit available, today it’s Jonagold apples, an almost ripe pineapple and red seedless grapes.

Yesterday I cooked up some scallops. Today I’ll cook and place a few shrimp atop my noodle salad with grated carrot and scallions.

As a good cook one must cook for flavor and health. I can’t cook fish when my husband is home and I love fish! He’s so allergic that he can’t handle the smell unless I grill it or buy it cooked. I just can’t eat beef and potatoes all the time.

I’ll eat my fish, but try to keep healthy snacks out on the counter so he goes for them first before raiding cheese and crackers. I’m the wife, the food wench (that’s what he calls me for our old dog Zoe).

I make dinner for all of us. When he starts eating cheese and crackers 15 minutes before dinner my heart sighs. “Do you need cheese before you get your steak with chimichurri?” Much to do today and the rest of the week and we’re taking on a guest tomorrow, for a week. A lot of work ahead so Cheers from Dee

 

Honor, Among Thieves?

There are two I have in mind. One taxes us at home twice what my husband is taxed for and earns in another state. To me, I’m about to do our taxes, that is highway robbery.

The other is a woman who has been going around our neighborhood stealing from people. She was caught a couple of months ago and I’ve even seen video footage of her counting her loot and walking in like she owns the place. The District Attorney declined to prosecute due to lack of evidence (there is video evidence and our security company caught her at another location) so she’s back.

In 1993 ago I bought my first new car, a bright red army jeep with no back seats so I could take my dog to the beach to run and chase really fast birds she could never catch. Soft top, I bought The Club to keep it from being stolen.

Ten years later I habitually put on The Club even though I knew we’d only get $2,300 for the old car. I was worried they’d steal The Club!

I grew up in neighborhoods where we never locked our doors or our cars. Those were the days. Now I am always religious about locking our doors.

The second I walk in or walk out the door is locked. The thief jiggles door handles, finds one open, steals money, wallets, cell phones from neighbors who are taking out the trash or taking their dog for a quick walk. I lock our doors and so far we’ve not been targeted.

As for the government tax thieves all we can do is move to a state with no income tax. Yes, I know where they are and where we want to be. Smarter than the average bear, Dee

Definition of “Done”

My definition of “done”

My husband has drilled this into me for over 14 years. I got the lingo all those years ago but not the concept.

As a wife and a dog owner there is never a “definition of done.” There’s always meals to be prepared, a dog to be taken out (OK, Zoe’s poop might be somewhat of a definition of done, yes it’s picked up every time), a home to keep clean and endless laundry, of course.

There was a time when legislators would vote yea on a bill I wrote. I slept well those days. Now I’m worried about bills, husband, dog and more.

In agile, there is a definition of done. You can have sticky notes or a kanban board or white board. You go through the steps until the project is completed. My project is never complete. Even with the home, laundry and cooking I’ve a husband and dog to love. If my job were done, they’d both be gone and that would be too sad. Let’s throw out the definition of done, for me right now. I’ll have to learn to live in the moment and deal with daily impediments. Think of me as an old running back (no, not OJ), running for a touchdown for my family every day. That’ll have to be my definition of done. On to taxes! Cheers, Dee

Why We Plan

My husband has been at a new client for just over a week. Now he has to pay thousands of dollars for shots to go overseas. Not just overseas as he’ll not be drinking the cool, clear water of Loch Lomond as we have before. Overseas as in being in a great hotel next door to a corporate complex going door to door for four days in a country where you need thousands of dollars in shots to go door to door.

Yesterday there were snags in the trip and I’ve booked him an appointment for several shots next week as advised by his mother, a nurse so they don’t up-sell as they are very expensive and mostly not necessary. That way they’ll be in his system when he arrives and not just advising him days before his trip. The trip has been rescheduled a few weeks.

He’s feeling “crummy,” and wanted to eat frozen pizza in bed. Yes, I got his frozen pizza but I’ve soup and tea then he told me the plane was down and he’d be hours late so was going back to the hotel and not coming home. I bought him apples and grapes and he still has a pineapple I put in the frig a few days ago. It’s near ripe.

His flight was back on so he’ll be in a few hours from now. I love him dearly and now will take the dog out for “last chance.” I’ve “Otis’d” Zoe up to the bed and will conclude this missive knowing my husband is coming home to us this weekend, Dee