My mom, Nonny, is really doing well with shelter-in-place. She has always been superb at doing what the doctor recommends – always. I think I’ve probably said here before that if the doctor told her to stand on her head every Tuesday and spit wooden nickels, you’d better have a bucket to collect those nickels every Tuesday.
At 88 she is taking covid precautions very seriously. She is staying in, staying away from neighbors, only going shopping when absolutely necessary and then she goes the extra mile (sprays the inside of her car, wipes all products off when she gets home, wears a mask, etc.) She is not an online person, so she’s watching a lot of tv and doing a solitary walk every afternoon. She’s mentioned a couple of times over the last couple of months that she is “out of books”. Despite the fact that she introduced me to libraries as a child, she is not a library person. Although I’ve suggested she find a close one, she is worried about hanging about in a library and bringing home potential contaminants. Telling her that she can talk to a librarian about how they are handling covid to possibly reassure her hasn’t helped.
I thought I would get her some books, but I’m stymied about what to send. I know that her favorite author is Mary Higgins Clark. I know that she likes mysteries and thrillers but not things that are “too dark”. Too much graphic violence and sex is right out as well.
So if I go to the bookstore to pick up some titles for her, what should I get???
Hand sanitizer, toilet paper, bleach…. I was lucky enough to have these items already in the house when shelter-in-place hit and people started to hoard. I was surprised by the flour/yeast panic and the run on King Arthur bread mixes, but again, I had enough on hand to get through. I was also surprised to not find garlic in the stores for a couple of weeks; the produce guy at Cub was stumped. Garlic salt isn’t the greatest substitute for fresh garlic, but we managed.
But pectic? This one brought me up short. I headed out early one morning and picked a big flat of raspberries and as is my custom, I stopped at Kowalski’s on the way home. There on the shelf where the pectin usually lives was a big hole. I asked an employee… they said that they haven’t been able to keep canning supplies and pectin in stock. Same story for a few other places I quickly called.
Unfortunately you can’t just keep fresh raspberries sitting around forever, so I kept calling and did find pectin at my local hardware store, although it was a different brand than I usually use to cook my jam. Since beggars can’t be choosers, I bought it and headed home. (The hardware store shelves in the canning section were basically bare; I actually got the last jar of pectin!) After a long search on the internet, I finally found a comparable low-sugar recipe that I could use. Presumably the jam will be fine when I thaw the first jar – you wouldn’t think you could mess up berries and sugar with a different kind of pectin, right?
Have you run out of anything lately?
Husband and I started six varieties of peppers from seed this year. We started two sweet red peppers (Spanish Giants and Ajvarskis) and two hot chilis (Joe Parker, a New Mexico Hatch type red chili, and Chimayo, a smaller, hotter, New Mexico red Chili). We also started some Habaneros and Thai chilis for our son
We labeled them and were careful to not mix them up. When we planted, I was certain that all the Joe Parkers were given to my secretary, as we decided at the last minute we didn’t want them. The Thai chilis and one Habanero went to our son, and all the rest, (17 in total) went into our garden. Or so we thought. Imagine my surprise when son sent photos of the alleged Habanero that looked long and slender like a Joe Parker. Two of what I thought were Chimayos also turned out to be Joe Parkers, and now we can’t tell the difference between the Spanish Giants and the Ajvarskis, as their tags got all mixed up when we planted. The header photo shows what I think are, from left to right a Spanish Giant, an Ajvarski, and Chimayo. (The latter are quite easy to discern.)
Husband tried to do a taste test between two big peppers, but they tasted similar. I decided the only way to solve this mystery is to not start any Joe Parkers next year. I should add that the peppers I gave my secretary were doing well until we had a wind storm and a big tree crashed on top of her garden.
What mystery, ancient or modern, would you like to solve?
VS and YA are out and about this week. A few clues:
- This county has the most small farms of any US county.
- Fast food mega-chain Jack-in-the-Box was born here.
- Theodor Geisel was one of the most prominent citizens here during his lifetime.
- The largest comic-con in the world is held here.
Where are we?
Guinevere and I have been expanded our walking routes, going a little farther and trying out new streets to walk down. Last week we went down a street in Tangletown that we hadn’t tried before, heading down the hill toward the creek. As we were walking I looked up and was startled to see a pair of women’s underwear hung on the tree close to the sidewalk. On closer inspection, I discovered about ten different garments (all women’s undergarments) hanging from the tree.
As we continued on our way, I thought about tee-peeing, which was a popular prank when I was a kid. I never took part in tee-peeing, but my house was the target of this prank once. Nobody I knew ever fessed up, so I always wondered if it had been meant for Sam’s house; he was my next-door neighbor and a much more social kid than I was. I wondered what kind of prank resulted in women’s underwear in a tree in a front yard. Was this what kids do these days? Where do they get the underwear? Thrift shops? Their mother’s dresser? Or was it more nefarious – one spouse getting even with the other, hopefully not with a divorce looming on the horizon.
Then I was surprised yesterday to walk that route again and found the underwear still hanging in the tree. At first I thought maybe the family was not at home the last few days, but there were golf clubs in a bag sitting on the front porch; surely no one would leave town with their clubs sitting out in the open. The mystery deepened when I got home and mentioned it to YA. She confirmed that the underwear has been in the tree for at least 3 weeks. Now I’m really wondering what the story is.
What do you think?