Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Ultimate Picnic

We used to be charged $5 to attend the government summer picnic. Being single I had to pay $5, yet a man with a party of five was charged the same rate. Let’s see, in accounting he paid $1 per person and I paid five, and he makes more than me for a lousy 46 bills a year. I have 750 and we’ve yet to hear of a computer. Come on, I still had a Rolodex.

I’m all for fairness. This is getting ridiculous, as single women do not get raises, are not treated fairly, and are propositioned all the time. Plus I had 3-10 times the bills to care for and no computer so everything was done by hand.

Our picnic was rained out. Deluge. We agreed that we would hold it indoors in the building’s conference room, not pay, and bring our own food.

There were paper tablecloths. Our team brought a linen tablecloth and napkins, plus silver candle-holders and candletsticks and fine china and wine. We each made something to contribute to the team, oh we even had fine silver ware and china and crystal serving devices for our culinary contributions.

The other teams got fast food. I only remember making a chilled cucumber/yogurt soup as a starter but there must have been more. It was a turnaround in my work life as people found me a force to be reckoned with and not the shy girl from the country. Word got around, and no elected official ever propositioned me again.

There were no plastic ants on the cake. I regret that they felt it necessary to break us up into teams because Mom had a silver punch server by then so I got her old glass one. It would have been nice if we could have made a party together. We were all friends, it was HR who dominated this event every year and probably made a kickback from our contributions to the caterer.

We made a statement. I made a statement. Soon after I left for greener pastures. They were not green. Double the money, my own office and a horrific boss. So I quit and went to cooking school, spent my life savings. It was worthwhile.  Cook something! Dee

 

Thyme and Effort

It is really about time. There is never enough of it. My parents are gone now, so is one of my Aunts, my godmother. The dog is ancient and will let me know when she wants to go. I’m debilitated by arthritis that was misdiagnosed for over 20 years. I think that gymnastics, ballet (en pointe) and track sped my downfall.

When we were kids we’d meet up with my mother’s family a couple of times a year. Mom had a green card from the USA and her family was all Canadian. We kids were about a year apart. When we 12 (two adults each family) we also had Papa and my Aunts went out to lunch in another city with 15 people, that is a chore and expensive. It is a job I was tasked with years later at work, holiday party, baby shower, Dee can organize it! I found one place that was a beanery in the thirties, Depression, five cents a bowl.

When I went there I had a great corned beef and cabbage sandwich on rye with deli mustard. Delicious! I went a few times, met the owner and arranged to have staff birthday and retirement parties there. It was a great old dive and they would put out a couple of quart bottles of PBR (Pabst) on the table before we arrived. I’d call with the time and a newbie would laugh and say “we don’t take reservations.” Ask your boss, see the table for 12 set up in the back, it’s for Dee. She asked. “Yes, ma’am.” Thank you.

Never mind that work paid married men and family men thousands more and said “Dee doesn’t need it, she’s single!” Of course I was carrying three times the workload of each of these guys and was also supposed to bring in my mother’s glass punch bowl. Time gets away, but I did have an oasis back then. There was a 15-minute nature film at a walkable museum and I could spend lunch there and be back in 1/2 hour.

As kids, my father was out at the pool with Pop and my godfather, Uncle D with the boys and young girls. I was in a hotel room with our mothers and aunts planning “room picnics.” Dad said we spent way too much attention and time dedicated to food. We were supposed to be on vacation, but that was my vacation! I could only do so many back flips and swan dives off the diving board.

Tonight is a pork tenderloin marinated in beer and grainy mustard, with potatoes and a green salad with tomato and lemon vinaigrette. I think in honor of you, I may change the one amber beer I bought to a hard apple cider. I can save the beer for another meal. Cheers and happy cooking! With fresh thyme. Dee

ps My office mate and I would go to the toy store at lunch to buy stuff for his kiddos. When we were getting a cake for the staff summer picnic we once bought plastic ants and placed them on the cake….

The Work

It’s about bringing your eye to the work, framing the work. I would use picture framing as an example. Choose a frame and matte(s) to draw one’s eye to the artwork.

If you’re a cop, package your solid, unimpeachable case in a box with a bow on top so that the bad guy/gal goes to jail. If an artist, be bold. Singer, be Barbra Streisand or opera.

Dad never got to see this work, one he bought for me at auction nearly thirty years ago, outside of its’ award-winning student’s “uniframe” that I used for many things for years when I had no money to do otherwise. It is a charcoal sketch of two dancers.

It is beautiful now, the undulating frame brings one to a dark brown matte, a fillet of tiny balls to accentuate the action and a tiny dark red matte that draws you to the dancers. I wanted him to see a picture of it but he died and I couldn’t pick it up until two days after his funeral. His works were framed well, both his art and what he did for people and organizations for the arts and education as his life’s work.

As to art, Dad took up painting at age 80. I have framed several of his works and am promised two more, plus his violin to rehabilitate and donate to the scholarship fund in his name at his alma mater. I would like to finish framing this work of a man I aspired to be like my entire life.

In college, one used tape to place posters on painted concrete walls. Interestingly, most of mine were lyrics from Bob Dylan, Dave Mason, Dan Fogelberg and other artists that I typed on my 1957 Smith-Corona typewriter. It was a gift from my Aunt for high school graduation and made me the most popular gal in the dorm, when papers were due. First electric portable in the world, the heaviest laptop one could ever have! I have it and move it everywhere we go even though last time I checked, it was worth $6 on e-Bay.

Now, I trust my eye for framing and must thank all my framers for that gift. I want to pull out the red and yellow and have a formal wood frame (that’s a Tuscan scene by my father that is a centerpiece in the master bedroom). I want to get this community project done to protect our safety and they won’t talk to each other. This feral cat has ringworm, get Dee! The children’s theater program is going down the toilet. Get Dee!

Unbeknownst to me I was always a framer of government issues, non-profit clients, photos and paintings, cooking, flower arranging, and shelter animals. We’ve one now. losing hearing and sight and at 14 she’s sleeping a lot. She is a framer, too. She’s kind of a mascot around here and everyone knows her on our walks. Her personality speaks for itself, whether it’s a young pup jumping on her or a big male dog flirting. She is always energetic and kind with people and animals. She even likes cats. Ciao, Dee

Frenemies

There was one I never really got to know. She was of the opposing party and I actually had a Rolodex in those days. We had a lot of bills to dispense with at the end of Session. Hundreds.

I looked her up in my Rolodex and was about to pick up the phone to call her. I’d sent out an agenda for 200 or more bills to deal with at Committee and she would have had to have reports on all.

We were just trying to clean up before close of Session. She would had to have bill reports on all 200+ bills which would have kept her up for days. I was already up for days and paying for pizza at work.

She called and I told her I was just picking up the phone to call her and we were only going to pass the first seven, the rest went into the trash for the next year. She only had seven bill reports.

I don’t know that my supervisors, especially high ones, would have liked that I did that, but since most of them are in prison I don’t really care. Heck, I would have done it anyway. I know how tired we get working 14-20 hours a day at the end, for peanuts and buying all our own meals. Giving her a break was a good thing to do. It helped the meetings go swiftly and painlessly for both sides of the aisle. They knew the game. We both knew what we needed to do. That’s legislation for you, Dee

ps I’ve been registered as an independent for years! Now I get crosswalks made between governments and have raised my dog to be an ambassador to our community. She’s a cougar, flirting with a Husky and a Bernese! Shameless. D

A Real Person

Good morning, Vietnam! I think Robin Williams said that that once or twice. Welcome!

I would like to think I was a real person when I left at age 17 for college and got my first few jobs. I was also a volunteer coordinator and trainer for 20 years in my off-hours as a consultant.

My husband asked me to quit all that and has moved me around the country and world for years. Now I write, cook, walk our old dog, pay bills and taxes and assure that our household is kept up. I feel useless. Now that we have a new business I feel even more useless as I am asked to do something and he does it himself.

Even persons who bill us for electricity or whatever say I’m “just the wife” and they cannot speak with me without my husband’s permission. Even our bank. I had my accounts years before I even met my husband and gave him co-signing authority two days after our wedding. Same thing, wait ’til your husband comes home, have him give you access to your accounts and hand over the phone.

That’s kind of tough when my husband is 2,000 miles away five days per week. I’m not a person anymore. No-one treats me seriously, but at least they don’t know my age or the pain I go through every day, having been mis-diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis over 30 years ago. All people know is that I walk our ancient dog Zoe four times a day and say good morning, and when I try to walk to the grocery store I now have a three-wheeled cart for which I put my purse in the back for ballast because it tends to flip to the front.

Working as a legislative analyst for the Assembly Speaker I worked on ADA back in the day. I can tell you that years later, even new buildings are no-where near compliant for people with disabilities. We are not seen.

Nobody knows or cares that I’ve been a bill-drafter, lobbyist, consultant. I would get up at 3:00 a.m. and write a 25 page bill, to give to the drafters. They didn’t change a thing and thanked me because none of my 62 peers ever drafted their own legislation. They just said “I want this. Write it.”

Once there was a political situation at a committee meeting I staffed. Party politics were the issue and it was a small land sale that had been approved by the Governor, Senate and Assembly leadership. Of course I’d called the government lawyer who had supervised and approved the survey results and the four-page bill.

When the minority leader asked how large (tiny) the land mass was that we were selling to a private individual, the chairman balked. I touched his arm and said “I have this.” He nodded, first time ever. I asked for another copy of the bill and compared them for a few seconds and told the minority leader “Four Pages.” Everyone burst out laughing and it passed on party lines. Hey, I’m no surveyor! I’m a problem solver. That’s just what I do. Cheers, Dee

 

Lakes and Mountains

Wouldn’t one wish to see both? A few years ago we chose lake. My screen saver shows both, wouldn’t that be a hoot.

“Our” mountains were so amazing. Growing up and having my first place to myself I learned the soothing sounds of the only two-way street that 18-wheelers were allowed to traverse. I heard the gears at the traffic light at first, then they muffled. It was only when family came to visit and mentioned it that I remembered my initiation.

In the mountains I was afraid of the mortars they used to prevent avalanches at five in the morning. Within a week it was like a lullaby. It’s going to be morning soon, must take the dog out.

One gets used to things, and doesn’t. There is not a moment I see the lake and the sun or moon shining on it that is not magnificent. Same for my mountains. Here there’s the Coast Guard, there ski resorts. We didn’t ski downhill. Tried XC once and I went 1/4 mile each way and probably didn’t walk the next day! Make the best of your day! Dee

Selection

As far as my book goes, an infant in the womb does not have the opportunity to select his/her parents, even siblings. They are just there, and need to be dealt with.

Same with kindergarten and grammar school. No choices there, it all depends on where one lives and what the parents decide.

As you get older you may have a choice of which college to attend, with whom to be friends there and who to go out with on a Saturday night for dinner and a movie.

Later, one selects a spouse and decides on having kids, where to work and live. A dear lady who works here is getting married this week! She has made her selection and was concerned about an age difference. I believe I dispelled her fears, saying that they are both mature adults, know that they selected each other, and that I’m over twice that amount of time older than my husband!

A sad selection went on as well this week, for a family member who is dying, about what tie to wear in his casket. His mother liked one of my husband’s, which would have been an honor to give, but the family on site went with one from his favorite sports team. I do not select to have him go. I always wonder what his theme will be every holiday, he is funny. On Easter Day, he got the phone and said “Happy April Fools!” I told him he could not do anything to me because I wasn’t there and he replied “there’s a possum in your house” so we kept that going for a day and he was happy and laughing.

Oh, we selected a dog as well. Adoption from a shelter, best dog in the world as I got to raise her from scratch. I did love my old dog, also from a shelter, but she was abused and needed a lot of work to be normal, as she became and was loved by kids and all, neighbors had a tree planted in her memory. She died shortly before I met my husband, and I had her for ten years and knew her for eleven. Our Zoe is now 14 and losing her eyesight and hearing.

I often have to pat her head to get her up to go out and eat her breakfast in the mornings. Don’t worry, she is good inside, and still a chow hound and scarfs up anything she can find! When it comes to our next selection, it will be when Zoe asks us to let her go. I don’t think it is the right time to select and train a new pup until our gal is gone. I choose to nurture and protect her until her choice is made. I’ll know. I’m her “mom.” Dee

Nether Lands

I never knew what that meant as a kid, just thought it an exotic destination if I ever stepped off USA soil. I have, but have spent the most time in Scotland, London, as little as possible in Northern France, lots in Italy and Greece.

USA is always with me, welcome Sweden, Netherlands and hello again UK. I’m going to wait to hear from Scotland. We were on George Square looking at City Hall and there were parades with increased police presence from girls, to boys, to women (mounted police), and the men had basically SWAT teams en route to a soccer game. It’s still Catholic vs. Protestant over there. No matter what Henry VIII said, I don’t understand why he tore apart his and other countries.

Two days after we arrived in Scotland the weather turned cold and I had to buy winter clothing for me and my husband and I found stamps there, plus cool postcards to send home, where I didn’t have to wait in line for an hour at the post office. I told a Japanese tourist, after he asked me where to buy stamps. Soon every Japanese tourist was asking me questions and I’d been there less than a week and knew nothing. Luckily I had a compatriot from the States and we plumbed all the nearby castles and their treasures and put the word out. All this without an early blog.

We were able to give advice on what to see and what not to see depending on the interests of any visitor. I am a magnet for people. Our dog is ten times the magnet as she gets petted and has treats (we donate) for a trick.

Back “home” I hear horns, squealing brakes, sirens and Harleys. I miss the sound of the bagpipes on the streets in Scotland. Wherever I live I learn to live with Moo, even trucks going through the gears in front of my window I miss the pipes. Dee

Just Not That Way

I give, rarely get. I don’t look forward to getting anything we owe to each other and our dog, love and forgiveness for eating a shoe while stressed at being flown halfway across the country in “crate class.” Yes, that was the dog, not my husband. She is too old to fly.

I’ve an “entitlement theory” where people think they are more important and/or raised better than the rest of us. They cut in line at the grocery store, even run on the side of the highway fleeing from a Cat 4 hurricane. Without speaking at all, we stayed in the right lane and one guy took his truck to the right along side the road and we kept pace with him and traffic, about 2 mph. We thwarted the people who thought they were more important than everyone. They had to get back in and wait for the police that were holding M-16’s to safeguard gas stations. We couldn’t get gas for miles after that.

Every hotel, motel was filled and every gas station was empty. Luckily we stayed with his parents. Even the no-tell motel had a parking lot filled with luxury cars. The motel soon re-painted with the money they made from that hurricane.

In work and in life, I never kick the person below me down the ladder. Neither does my husband, which is part of why I married him. We bring people up and allow them to be what they can be. Years ago my father met a truck driver for whom he had an intelligence test taken and he was a genius! Dad got him a scholarship to college. He ended up with a doctorate and successful career, and was a mentor to me.

The end lesson is that it doesn’t help to bring people down, but to bring them up. That is the role of a leader. Leaders don’t force people off roads in a hurricane. They help, Dee

 

A Vegetarian Sandwich et al

Years ago I’d walk down the street and have a marvelous sandwich at a local restaurant. I am not trying to re-create it here, it’s just something I’ve never tried and would love to make one and check it out. After all, it might get my husband off a lifetime meat & potatoes kick for at least one lunch!

I’m thinking at least 12-grain toasted bread. It’s vegetarian, not vegan, so slather some homemade guacamole on both sides, layer with perhaps butter lettuce, sprouts, and room-temperature Brie. Sauteed sliced mushrooms would be a good touch, but a duxelles would be better as it wouldn’t squish out. As would sliced tomatoes.

Hot toast, veg, warm Brie or Camembert, greens, what’s not to love? Oh, fried green tomatoes on the side with a quick pickle of thinly sliced European (seedless) cucumber with French breakfast radishes, also sliced and pickled, a bit of apple cider vinegar and splash of salt and pepper. Sugar, a pinch. I know Bobby Flay would do honey but I do organic sugar. So be it from the church of Dee.

My husband ate an entire mini-meatloaf last night, I substituted turkey for beef. Tonight we’re having a spatchcocked Cornish game hen (I’ll cut out the backbone and crush the chest bone, I think my butchers appreciate that, as they do the meals I bring in for them to taste) marinated in lemon grass and garlic and chiles. I think we’ll cook it indirectly on the grill. With it will be small multi-colored potatoes and that is to be determined. We just may place the potatoes in a cast iron pan on the hot side of the grill to roast, along with some heirloom carrots. That’s just salt, pepper, a little thyme and olive oil.

Lunch is fajitas, at least for him. I’ll make salsa and guacamole and have a chicken breast in the frig. Breakfast is either smoked bacon or blueberry sausages, eggs and toast with local jam. He’s been gone for two weeks and leaves again in 24 hours so I have to make sure he has home-cooked foods because he eats in restaurants all the time. I loved my father, still do even though he is gone, but he traveled also and got used to the thought that Mom could make him a dish he desired in an instant. No, I don’t have any veal chops or heavy cream.

I made my father a classic cassoulet once which is a two-day process with duck, sausage and beans and veg and crust that has to be dealt with every hour. He said it was his favorite meal of all time. That means a lot to me.

When one gets in from an airport he can not ask for cassoulet at home and have it done in 1/2 hour. It’s simply not on the menu. There is your answer. Sorry, hon. My husband has never had a classic cassoulet. I don’t mind cooking one, it’s just that it might be an out of the blue request when his plane lands at 11:00 p.m. Don’t worry, I go to the gas station up the street and get him his favorite frozen thin crust pizza and a 2 liter Dr. Pepper. All he has to do is call me from the airport and I’ll turn on the oven. Cheers from the cook, Dee