Category Archives: Editorial

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Levels

My parents bought their first home for under $18K. It was a starter street but with some wicked smart folks and we all got along and kids played together and especially when they called on Dad. Everybody played, if it meant a 12 year-old carried a three year-old to a touchdown or a base hit in our back yard.

I’ve never believed in the ladder theory where everyone upstairs has to kick an associate down a rung or two. Leadership and teamwork, it’s the only way to go.

High school, it’s all people in your socio-economic level, college there’s a mix. Work, an even bigger mix and it’s frightening to some but liberating for me.

With living, it’s interesting. We all got along on our street and out in the country. In high school there were clicques and in college a vastly different story.

We live in a city with a rust belt mentality in a very nice place with a view. The last place we did that was in the Rockies. Our year-round neighbor-friends knew we were here for each other whatever came along and counted on that while we threw a few pot luck dinners a year to get together by the fire or outdoors.

Every once in a while I came by a snob who looked down on me but didn’t give in to their prejudice that I couldn’t afford an $8 million dollar home. Over 90% of the time we met really interesting people from all over the world and it was a scenic and joyful experience.

Here there are some people who also think they’re above all others and seem to think I’m beneath them. I do not send mass emails or any of the jokes my father sends to me. What I do is personal and meaningful hopefully for the person on the other end. I care very much about that.

Today I was dismissed by two neighbors, one who was too busy as I was about to say “have a good day, ‘bye” and another who said not to send emails that don’t pertain to him when he couldn’t read that the issue directly impacted him.

People think of themselves on certain levels and treat others according to keeping that step on the ladder intact. When an issue is of interest they may bite in an ephemeral way. Yes, they may write an email and never go on.

I like to think that every person should be given a chance to survive and surprise. Just as I’ve done shelter work for 20 years and believe that nearly every dog and cat deserve an opportunity to live and thrive with a good family.

Egotism and being quasi-elite don’t have a place in our lives. We are smart, simple people who simply want to change the world. The business and non-profit worlds at least. Everyone has potential and should be treated equally.

If one has some status as a celebrity, star athlete, politician, business person, bring people up. It only can make you look better. If a star, give a kid an autograph then help out your community. Think about what you’ve earned and what life has given you and give back. Don’t give to Make A Wish, think about where you learned to play basketball or who your mentor is/was and think about the folks who can learn from your experience, not about you.

Think Cal Ripken. Every game, no drugs. And he gives money to help adults learn to read, among other charitable pursuits. If you have something to share, whether it be piano or football or history, share it. And not only for the cameras. Be real, Dee

Neighbors and Otis

At seven yesterday morning I got quite a scare. My next-door neighbor I rarely see was returning from her daily morning walk and Zoe my dog and I were going out for ours. We stopped for a few seconds to say good morning/how are you.

Then Otis the Evil Elevator forced a hard close of the doors. I was inside with my arm holding the door and the other searching for the “door open” button. Zoe was in the hall.

At the last fraction of a second I tried to throw her leash into the hallway, knowing she’d be fine waiting two minutes for me to return while she sniffed our neighbors’ doorways.

The leash tightened then disappeared and I thought she broke her neck and died, apparently I yelled (I don’t remember) and know I burst into tears and four floors down trying to reverse the elevator a family entered, saw my distress and exited and said to go back up, they’d take another. They like Zoe, too.

Expecting to see my dog lying dead on the floor with a broken neck, instead I saw said neighbor K standing with Zoe at the end of the leash. I didn’t find out until last night what happened.

K heard me yell and rushed outside and first tried to get Zoe’s leash undone from the collar but knows little of dogs and how their leash apparatus works. So she pulled the leash as hard as she could and it came out of the elevator. She saved Zoe’s life and for that we thank her immensely. I’ve nurtured Zoe for ten years and would hate for ten seconds to end her life. Her neck seems fine, it’s not swollen or broken and she doesn’t seem to be in pain, thanks to K.

Zoe wrote a thank-you note to K (Dear Ms. K, Thank you for saving my life. Mom thought I was a goner. It’s great to have neighbors like you. Zoe) and sent me out to the new florist to get an arrangement. Currently we’ve no solid plans for July 4 weekend as pre-incident my husband was asked if we’d be around. K & J’s grandkids are coming into town and they talk about Zoe all year and take turns calling on her.

This year will be special. If it’s OK with their folks they can help feed and take her out, supervised of course, and my husband will twist extra balloons (without Zoe, the twisting and occasional popping freak her out) for them.

I addressed the issue of the “hard close” elevators because it could be an issue for elderly residents, young families with strollers and sleds or water gear, and those of us with elderly pets. No word as yet though I was asked if Zoe is OK. She seems to be so, but only because our neighbor saved her life.

Cheers to great neighbors! Farewell A, who moves today. Once she’s settled we’ll go to a certain museum together. Dee

Guilty

Last night I made two NY strip steaks. Half of mine is left for me to make steak and eggs for my husband in the morning and he should feel guilty because he’s going to ruin it with steak sauce.

The rule is that you don’t ruin my good steak with sauce at dinner, but it’s OK when it’s rested overnight and will now be overcooked with eggs over medium. It’s a compromise called marriage.

My guilt is that as our wonderful dog Zoe declines I think I’ve another pup in me, to raise, and am starting to look into it. Sorry, Zoe. She can’t get up to the bed anymore and is now struggling to get down. Her first senior bloodwork  panel was fine and I know what cart to get if she needs it to move around.

I hate to see her go downhill but her health is OK. I’m just asking questions for the future and hope she knows I’ll not do anything that would jeopardize her final years. Guilt. Catholic, it’s inbred. She’s never jealous of other dogs but I feel bad for even looking. Guiltily your writer de jour, Dee

 

Flowers

I’ve not had much luck with them lately. I don’t go for composition but enjoy simple arrangements like daffodils, daisies and single flowers for each bathroom.

Gerberas have not done well for me of late, one lasted two days, the last one, one day. I know I go on half-off Fridays but how can I spend less than five minutes cutting down one flower and placing it in water and it’s dead the next morning?

When we married a dear friend offered to buy my wedding bouquet. God bless her, she’s been my surrogate mother for many years. I chose something small on the shelf, with yellow/pink French tulips and white Alstroemeria with pink and yellow. For blue (I had everything else old, new and borrowed) I selected a very light blue silk ribbon to hold the flowers.

The other day I bought two yellow spider mums for each bath. Also a bunch of pink Alstroemeria that has given a vegetative odor to our home for 24 hours. I thought it would be nice to have something that means something to me, and not so much to my husband, but as I smell it now it it overpowering.

I do love half-off Fridays and picking flowers of my choice and doing what I want with them. This is a high-end florist and I let people know they’re new in the neighborhood but they do weddings and parties and I’m just a blip on the radar.

Simple is key. If you come over for dinner bring a bunch of daisies or whatever is seasonal. Even my husband knows that buying me roses is a chore. He used to just bring them knowing I had dinner about to be on the table. Now he has the lady trim and de-thorn them so I can just pop them into a vase. The diva says Cheers! Dee

Chivalry

It is not dead, ladies, only dormant or no longer taught. And even the most chivalrous husbands forget from time to time but mine at least always puts down the toilet seat so I don’t fall in.

This week he placed weather stripping on our front door. We don’t open the windows in summer because there are no screens and bugs get in and take my blood. The buffer also helps with light, air and noise for which I’m also thankful.

I was going to tell you how to meet these guys, not in a bar, but that’s exactly where we met at TGI Fridays over lunch. It was three weeks after 9/11 and everyone was talking about that tragic event. There were about five single individuals sitting at the bar (the tables were full) eating lunch and we all started talking. Hours later it was only the two of us. We shook hands in the parking lot and he said maybe we’d see a movie as friends someday.

The next night he called, picked me up, opened his car door and took my hand and he’s still around 13 years later. It was a restaurant, but now he tells anyone who asks that I picked him up in a bar. Great story for a Bible-belt teetotaler.

Whether it’s a gorgeous spring day or on an icy sidewalk, he knows when to take my hand or arm. We both know and reach out at the same time without even looking at each other. Sick, I know. You see those bridal magazines with couples on a sofa lying together and reading. Marriage isn’t like that.

My prime categories are someone I like and likes me, someone smart so we can have discussions about politics or news, someone who is caring who might still leave his socks on the floor.

I didn’t look. He came to me. I actually think he was sent to me but that’s another story. He’s a nerd, wicked smart, enough that MIT sent him a letter at age 15, unsolicited. He grew up on a dairy farm so has values for family, hard work and a methodical nature (the last drives me nuts from time to time).

Think older (I married younger). For the past couple of weeks I’ve been taking the father of a new Swedish neighbor around to see art and botanical gardens. It’s a treat for me because my husband would rather see airplane engines. The other day our visitor showed up with a bouquet of flowers to thank me for showing him around town.

That is what a true gentleman does for a gal. I told my husband “I have a date this morning” and he knew exactly who it was and appreciated that he didn’t have to go see a Monet, Giacometti or Gaston Lachaise or even a pomelo tree at the tropical exhibit.

In college I lived with a girl who spent well over two hours getting ready to go to a two-bit bar by the railroad tracks near campus where they had $.25 “ponys.” I spent five minutes. My rationale is that if I had a good conversation for that amount of time my effort to get there was worthwhile. 2.5 hours means she’ll always leave disappointed in the evening.

What ever happened to her? She must have six kids and grandkids by now and I waited until 40 to marry. Maturity is another must-have, on your and your spouse’s part. If you have kids make sure they get at least a college degree. That will give them a chance for a brighter future.

Someone is waiting for you to appear. Work, volunteer, go to social events, walk a dog (that’s probably the best, ask a neighbor if you can walk their dog). Geeks. Remember the kid you joked about in high school? He’s now heading a company. Chivalry is not dead. I can take the leash and give my husband a bag and he’ll pick up the poop. That’s a marriage made in heaven. Above all, be yourself. Cheers! Dee

Pop-Ups/Groceries

I do go to a mostly organic grocer often and now am able to walk there due to lack of snow or ice. Last weekend they had oysters and I haven’t had one in years, so ordered two different kinds at $1 apiece, on a paper tray on shaved ice.

Not wanting to smother their flavor, I opted for a drop or two of lemon juice on each, then down they went. Gorgeous flavors with both. I do have an oyster knife but couldn’t find the hinge with a blindfold and being turned around three times. Even while wearing the ruby slippers.

There was some grit but the oysters were so fresh and cold, and terrific. They had several sauces but why bother?

Today said grocer called with an order of cinnamon bacon. Don’t laugh. I’m a regular customer so a few weeks ago when they started to smoke their own bacon in house they gave me two slices of cinnamon bacon to try. I was prepared to hate it, now love it. It takes them a week to make this so today Mike called and said it was cooling and how much do I want.

All I can say is that my husband will be a happy man to have this bacon. It’s nitrate-free and Mike offered to place it into two packs so I can freeze one.

I helped my Swedish friend get postcards, not stamps. Turns out our really local grocery carries stamps. It’s a good thing to know.

Years ago I went with Dad to a Home Depot and he was amazed by all the nails, nuts and bolts they had for sale. Of course he was used to a local small store and his father was a carpenter/handyman.

I wonder what visitors think of our country now. Dee

New Old Friends

A retired engineer came to town to visit his son, our neighbor, from Sweden. When my husband and I stopped by to say farewell yesterday I said that H did things with me that my husband would never do. Eyebrows were raised.

Art! And plants! Get your mind out of the gutter! We went to the art museum and I got to spend an hour in the modern art section (I think I actually jumped up and down when I saw a Giacometti across the room) and we were in sync with the art.

Yesterday was a bit disappointing as we tried one urban garden space that had nothing growing for the cold winter, foreswore another because of cold, wind and rain and finally went to an indoor garden and had a good morning.

They’re on a plane now back to Sweden. When son G returns next door he’s going to teach me to make his Swedish meatballs and I may teach him Texas chili in return.

In the meantime I love to make new friends and especially ones who like to go see the kind of events I love and my husband has no time for. The highlights were their dinner for us, and the modern art at our local museum. All the time I spent with H, even at the grocery store, I thought of my father and how I miss him. The partial deafness made me feel right at home. Cheers! Dee

Sleepy Dogs and Thunderstorms

It’s rained just a bit after a glorious weekend but there are rumblings in the distance so now I’ve moved dog Zoe’s big bed next to my desk, away from the window, and she’s sound asleep.

Fireworks don’t really scare her and it’s only the noise of air shows that bother her a bit. The only time she gets under our bed is when she gets too hot on top of it (down comforter and feet) or when my husband makes balloons. Yes, a software consultant who makes balloons.

He’s out of practice but Zoe wishes he’d never do it again and goes under my side of the bed to hide until the squeaking and some poppings occur. Now my husband goes to a public place when a child and his/her parent want a balloon animal. Children in the neighborhood know him as the “balloon man” and he always has a few in his pocket or hat. It’s funniest when he’s dressed for work and is at an airport gate with a crying child. Twisting a dog in 30 seconds does wonders for all.

Our dog has been a sleeper since we got her at just six weeks of age and can go overnight like nothing. She has to get the best spot. Usually next to me as I do the morning walk and feed her and have done so for over ten years. As I said, she’s at my feet, sound asleep and the thunder clouds have retreated for now.

No matter what happens, she’s slept through a Category 5 hurricane with my husband all night, ten hours while I sat up and blogged it. I’m not too worried about planes going over and thunder and Harleys. But I should probably take her out before the next wave.

She loves a pool, a river, a bath but not getting wet by rain. That’s my dog. Zoe’s her name, Greek for “life.” Working with animals all my life she’s the happiest I’ve ever met. By finishing this, it’s pouring outside, it even may be hail from what I see. She’ll thank you kindly for the delay. Oh, it’s hail. Not good. Dee

Cooks and Garnishes

I made a perfect steak the other night. I was inside doing baked potatoes and such but seasoned the steaks and my husband did not overcook them. He knows better now that when there’s a wonderful meal on his plate not to douse it in H-P or A-1 sauce.

Come morning when there is a bit of steak left I cook it with his eggs and then he can have sauce with it. I was horrified years ago the first time he asked for sauce.

When I bring something to the table I have tasted it and make sure it is seasoned correctly, which is why I never have salt or pepper on the table. It really hurts my feelings when someone takes a perfectly cooked steak and asks for steak sauce to drown it and lose all the flavor I imparted into that steak.

As for garnishes, forget the parsley “trees” as I asked the butcher for as a kid because I’d never seen a fresh herb before. Only use something that enhances and, at a cocktail party, identifies what is in the dish. My husband is deathly allergic to anything that swims and I failed once to place a little crisscross of salmon over a salmon mousse, only a sprig of dill, and ended up running to get him antihistamines as he brushed his teeth.

If you’ve a pasta dish with cheese, garnish it with that cheese and also basil if basil is in the sauce. When I make a chicken liver mousse with apple and walnuts I place a decorative slice of apple on top with a walnut to make sure those who are allergic to nuts know what is in the dish.

On the slightly crazy side I do know how to make frills of parchment paper. Say I french a rack of lamb leaving only the “lollipop” if I cook it in a hot oven or grill I can make parchment paper “frills” for the tops of the bones. Make them and attach after they cook, while they’re resting.

I always wondered why Julia Child’s turkeys et al always had frills. Perhaps hers were made professionally by food stylists but I can make my own and would love to teach an artistic child to marinate and grill that lamb and while it’s cooking, make parchment frills to surprise his/her parents at dinner.

No foams. No immersion circulators. No room in my kitchen and I’ll stick to old school. We just thought outside the box and sent a friend who got married this weekend a key set of my favorite kitchen tools. They are purposeful but many cooks will not have them so we hope they appreciate the care we put into these varied selections. Congratulations and best wishes, you two! Cheers, Dee

Simple Folk

“I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills….” I don’t remember the words but awakened singing it this morning. I’m a song a morning kind of gal.

Memorial Day makes me think of my grandfather, who fought in WWII. Also of a dear friend’s brother who flies or drives a thousand miles “home” to be in the town parade and play Taps at the cemetery.

We are spending the weekend at home with our dog and not venturing too far. Tonight I made a gorgeous NY strip with olive oil and Borsari seasoning. My husband cooked it just right, I let it rest and I still have a few ounces of my smaller steak to slice and make him breakfast tomorrow. Steak and eggs, of course.

With the steak was a baked russet potato with a smidgeon of butter, salt, pepper, sour cream and sliced scallion. Also new asparagus, steamed then dressed with just a touch of butter, salt and pepper. A great meal.

Our task this weekend is to weather-strip our front door. It turns out that many neighbors open their windows (we’ve not since early February) and bugs come in to visit me. Of course since childhood bees, wasps, gnats, mosquitoes, everyone comes to see Dee and not necessarily in a good way. Perhaps that’s why dogs and cats come to visit.  Interesting thought. We had a pact in an old neighborhood that I’d handle stray felines and canines and another would take care of anything avian or reptilian. It worked. And yes, I did find the iguana who’d been missing for three months and was freezing and called him asap and it worked out.

My husband just heard, hours ago, that a dear canine friend of ours has surprisingly just been diagnosed with bone cancer. We all love you, bud and will do our best to help you in the days ahead.

People always extend platitudes such as “it’s for the best,” “God has a plan,” or “it’s better this way, she’ll be happy.” No such thing. That’s only what we tell ourselves to make us feel better.

If feeling better is the key I get to clean out a full refrigerator Saturday morning and take out trash. Also it’s pizza night so if I pick up some mushrooms I’m good to go and will make dough mid-afternoon. Only 00 Italian flour now. We’re spoiled.

I’m in fake “hot water” with my butchers as I did not give them a sample of my signature Pedernales River Chile, originated by Lady Bird Johnson and served at the Pedernales Ranch in 1962 to JFK and 5,000 guests. It was the most requested document at the White House that year.

Unfortunately the recipe fails on certain counts. I grind my own meat, rough grind, Texas style. The recipe does not include, nor do I, beans. There are no beans in TX chili. It calls for chili powder. In 1962 that was a watered down mixture. I use pure cumin, ancho, chipotle, sometimes Aleppo peppers and oregano. I use more tomato and add tomato paste and cook it 2-3 hours over a low flame, stirring regularly.

I use a sweet onion and several garlic cloves minced, to start, remove to a large pot then brown the newly-ground meat (yesterday it was chuck and short rib) in batches, salting as I go and draining before adding to the big pot. Add ground tomatoes and spices and simmer, partially covered. Taste and add more salt, pepper, spices or tomato paste as needed.

Add lime and serve with lime wedges, sour cream and of course corn bread on the side. Every once in a while I like to let my Texas in-laws that I’m taking good care of their son. He loves my steak, and chili, and even roast chicken from time to time!

Keep cooking. Enjoy the long weekend but remember our veterans while out on the boat sipping a beer….. Dee