Most Wednesdays I leave the house very early to hit my favorite donut place. When I left yesterday, YA said she was going to the gym before work and would probably be gone before I got back.
I was thinking about that when I pulled into my driveway and saw that she was starting to back out of the garage. She didn’t notice me right away (I was on the hill part of the driveway so my lights were pointing higher than her car) so she didn’t wait for me to pull into the garage next to her so I just sat and waited.
What you need to know is that YA and I have different strategies for dealing with our long driveway. I almost always just back all the way down to the street. YA does several little turns at the top of our driveway so that she is driving out headfirst. Both techniques have their pluses and minuses. But it meant that by the time she had turned herself around at the top, there would be room for me to get by and into the garage.
Went exactly as I had expected but while I was waiting it did make me think about “playing chicken”. I’m not a big playing chicken kind of gal but it does feature in a movie I’ve watched too many times:
Have you ever been in a submarine? Do you have a favorite submarine movie?
I apologize for two food related posts in a row, but the current obscenely cold weather and the even more obscene political news have caused me and Husband to stay home, insulate ourselves, and cook.
We are typically very busy in the kitchen, but since December we have gone pretty wild. Two weekends ago we made a number entrees including Hungarian pot roast, baked salmon, sheet pan gnocchi with peppers and sausages, a baked risotto, and red beans and rice. The latter recipe came from a New Orleans native with the wonderful name of Pableaux Johnson. None of it has gone to waste, I should add.
We usually cook most things from scratch, and now that includes beans. I have ordered a number of dried beans from Rancho Gordo. Husband notes he is feeling better since we started with the beans, and misses it when we don’t have beans on the menu. We have also dived deep into traditional foods of northern Spain. Supper last night was leftover Fabada, a Spanish white bean stew with chorizo, ham hock, and blood sausage. It is delicious.
I realize that we turn to cooking like this to feel safe and to have some sense of control. I find the extreme cold to be terribly frightening. A couple of nights ago the wind chill was -43. Kyrill our terrier ran off the deck in pursuit of a bunny and didn’t come right back as he usually does. Husband went out to get him, and found him paralyzed with cold in the snow on the side of the house. He had only been out a minute or less. He got some left over pot roast in his kibble that night.
How are you coping with the weather and the political mess we are in? What are some of your favorite world cuisines? Thoughts on dried beans?
Well, if there is one thing I have learned from my 40+ years of marriage is that Husband makes the salad dressings. He is so finicky about salads, and he always insists that we have to make our dressings from scratch.
He recently found on the NYT food site a basic vinaigrette that appeals to a fusspot like him. You add what ever herbs and/or mustard you want to 1/4 cup of olive oil and two tablespoons of wine vinegar., along with a little salt and pepper. He is insistent that it must be white pepper. Don’t ask me why. Oh, and the herbs must somehow complement the greens in some obscure way I am not privy to and seem to change unexpectedly. I must admit his dressings and salads are really good.
I, however, make the hollandaise. I wouldn’t trust him to not poison us with salmonella if not done correctly. I make a quick blender hollandaise that hasn’t poisoned us yet. Thank you, Julia!
What are your favorite salads and dressings? What do you get fussy about? Ever made hollandaise?
I recently found out that this Thursday I have to testify in person in Bismarck at a Labor committee hearing regarding a proposed bill that my regulatory board opposes. Our ND legislature is in session right now. The proposed bill involves lumping all the mental health regulatory boards, now independent, self funding, and self sustaining volunteer boards, into one board run by the state.
I have never done testimony like this before. One of my board colleagues is writing the testimony. He has done this many times before. It will be no longer than three pages, because if you go on too long the legislators start looking at their phones and stop paying attention. We have a good strategy and have had several emergency board meetings to plan.
I have two major concerns regarding this experience: What should I wear, and will the sciatica in my left leg cause some problems (problems as in giving out from underneath me and causing me to collapse on the State Capitol floor). My colleague who is writing the testimony works for an agency that provides long term residential services to developmentally disabled individuals. Rather tongue in cheek, he told me he has access to lots of wheel chairs and could bring one to Bismarck. He thought me being wheeled in would elicit sympathy for our cause. I told him it wasn’t THAT bad, thank you, and I would bring a walking stick if I thought I needed one. I told him I could also it to club legislators who were difficult.
Regarding attire, it used to be a rule that that women legislators had to wear dresses to the Capitol when the legislature was in session, and I was worried because if that extended to people testifying, it would be a problem for me. I haven’t worn a dress in ages, I have no workable stockings, and I really didn’t want to drive to Bismarck in this cold in a dress and heels. I was relieved to hear that I just need to dress in “Business Casual”. I have yet to decide what that means for me. Whatever I decide, I will dress in warm clothes, given how drafty the Capitol can get.
Any cleaver Baboon suggestions regarding attire or costuming that I should consider? What would be your considerations if you had to give public testimony to a legislative body or commission?
I’ve traveled internationally more in the past year than ever before in my life. I’m not used to it. I get anxious over airports and flying, but I’m getting better at it.
My friends, Jim and Nancy, invited me to join them for a week in Mazatlan. They extended the invitation last fall. I’ve been trying to get some of my older friends to go places with me since I retired, but it’s been like herding cats, so when Jim and Nancy invited me I accepted immediately.
I arrived at Mazatlan on Saturday afternoon. Jim provided detailed instructions, and I had them in hand, for getting through the airport, getting a taxi, and getting to their place. I was able to give the driver the address in Centro Historico in Spanish. After an exciting cab ride through the city, Jim and Nancy met me at the gate of Villa Serena. It’s a block of apartments with a maze of tiled outdoor hallways, pools, birds and trees. Their apartment was on the third floor and had more windows, fresh air, and natural light than most. They told me it was the biggest apartment in the place. I had my own room and a shared bathroom.
There were hummingbirds and orioles at a feeder hanging outside the windows. The red tiled areas in front of their white washed apartment were open to blue sky, and the tops of palm trees. It was colorful and lovely. There was a view of a central courtyard in front of a large, golden cathedral. There were bells chiming frequently throughout the day, often on the quarter hour, especially on Sunday. No one can figure out the pattern for the chiming, or the reason.
One evening, just after sunset, there was a tiny gecko on the window screen. It was only about an inch and a half long. It charmed me to my toes.
Jim and Nancy are friendly, outgoing people. They have lots of friends there. Most of the people I met were from Mexico, followed by British Columbia. There was one couple from Prince Edward Island. I didn’t meet any other Minnesotans. Some of the people who stay at Villa Serena gather for a daily happy hour. Jim and Nancy attend it sometimes, but not while I was there. I met lots of people and learned lots of card or dice games, including a fun game called Mexican Train.
We walked a lot. We walked to the Mercado several times. Nancy bought lots of fresh food there: fruits, veggies, spices, and some large pieces of red snapper. I was fascinated by all the things there were to see, including a pig head with eyes.
We walked a few miles to a beach called Stone Island one day and spent the day there. It was lovely. There were stray dogs who were friendly but so thin. It wasn’t hard to give some of my quesadilla con pollo to a sweet dog with warm brown eyes who put her chin on my lap. I wanted to bring her home with me. I looked for sand dollars but didn’t find any. Some people swam in the ocean. I didn’t swim, but I did wade a little. I identified some birds, including an American oystercatcher, an orchard oriole, and a cinnamon hummingbird.
Nancy and I walked to the “Malecon” one day and just walked along the beach. I was struck by the persistence and determination of the many people who approached us asking if we wanted refrigerator magnets or sunglasses or blankets or ball caps with visors. A young girl selling pistachios said “Pleeease?” We gave a little boy some pesos but didn’t take the candy he offered. He ran away calling, “Mama! Mama!” I learned to say, “No, gracias,” and keep walking, even though the disparity was hurting my heart.
They’re getting ready for Carnaval there. There were huge, colorful, papier-mâché statues on the Malecon. Nancy took my picture with my arm around a bronze statue of John Lennon, the other three lined up behind me. I don’t think the likenesses were very good, but it was a fun memento of the trip.
We went for gelato in the evenings. It was really beautiful walking through the squares at night. There was music and light everywhere. The gelato was delicious!
There was a lot of noise, all night, every night. There was music, people laughing and singing, dogs barking, horns honking, and roosters crowing. It took three nights before I could sleep through it.
I brought my mandolin along, packed tightly in my big checked bag, so Jim and Nancy and I played music a few times. One day we took our instruments and walked a mile or so to a friend’s apartment. He played fiddle and we had a great time playing music together.
On Friday late afternoon, we began hearing the explosions of fireworks. It was very close and loud. Jim said it was probably coming from the central square area in front of the cathedral (an area that we passed through often). There was still daylight so we couldn’t really see the fireworks, but we could certainly hear them. That was followed by some up-tempo music, then a very loud, very long and colorful parade. Nancy thought maybe they had chosen the princess for Carnaval, but we really didn’t know for sure. The festivities lasted two or three hours.
We played Yahtzee every afternoon, then played music, then went out for gelato. They told me they weren’t very exciting and had a routine they followed. It was fine for me. I’m just glad to go somewhere like that. I liked that we were in the central historic district. I got a big dose of culture, language, music, and art, and I enjoyed it very much.
What activities do you enjoy with your friends? Ever played Mexican Train?Where in Mexico would you want to visit?
I never used to drink coffee. Notice the past-tense there. This week I’ve had it two different mornings. It started about a month ago with a morning meeting and all they had was coffee, so I had some in a Styrofoam cup that was more cream and sugar than coffee. I learned coffee in a foam cup gets cold really fast. Like, REALLY fast. And then this past Tuesday at the college was AED day. Nope, not the defibrillator thing even though that’s what we all thought of. All Employee Development day. And again, coffee. In a foam cup. I do tend to drink it fast in this case. When I make tea at home and put it in my 20-ounce travel mug, I might not finish that until 2 o’clock in the afternoon and it’s still warm-ish. But the coffee I drank fast because I didn’t want it to get any colder. And then on Thursday morning, I stopped at Kwik Trip, and there I was looking at all the coffee flavors. I tried a machine that was supposed to mix French vanilla and caramel and something else, but when I hit the ‘dispense’ button, I got about 2 drips and that was it. Even their cardboard cups with a lid on it didn’t keep it warm for long. I don’t know that I need to get addicted to coffee right now. I’m not sure that’s what I need in my life at this moment.
I heard an ad on the radio say something about remember when the hardest thing in your life was whether to file your Marshall Tucker album under M or T?
I had the crate full of records. I may have even had two crates. And while I never had Marshall Tucker, I remember a few bands and not being sure how to alphabetize them. Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin. I never alphabetize my CDs, but the records I did. I kept the plastic on them, the vinyl went inside the sleeve, placed back in the jacket with the opening to the top. Yep, I had to take the sleeve out of the jacket to get the record out. But that was OK, because I always liked the liner notes. Certain record album covers were pretty racy. Was it Queen’s, ‘Jazz’, that opened up to all the naked girls on bicycles? Pretty hot stuff for a teenage boy. The Car, Candy-O was another good one.
It seems like our bathroom and laundry room construction is pretty well done. Waiting on the countertops, and of course the plumber and the electrician to do their final connections. They did the countertop measurements on Wednesday and I think they said a week to 10 days for that. And there will be some tile to finish once the countertop is installed. We’re just hoping to get the washing machine back soon. We’re down to rationing our socks and underwear. We’re all kind of tired of this disruption. It sure does look nice though. It doesn’t even look like it belongs in this house. I think Kelly’s plan is to paint this weekend. I’ll post a picture once it’s finished.
Out in the shop, I installed Snirt Stoppers on Monday evening. See the header photo. A Snirt Stopper to keep out snow and dirt is just an extra piece of weather stripping that can go all around the garage door. At this point I only needed it on the bottom. The concrete that I had poured in the shop is not exactly level or flat. When I met the guy that did the concrete, Matthew, he had a real good business going and I used them at the theater for a couple jobs. When they got to doing my shop, he was starting a new branch of the business down in Florida and had left his brother, Max, in charge. It’s unfortunate that Max was not up to the task. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still thrilled to have concrete in here, but they didn’t do a perfect job by any means. Sounds like Matthew is now divorced, the company went out of business, and Matthew went to Florida and started over. So, a bit of a gap in a spot of the floor and the need for a Snirt Stopper.
I have been getting things cleaned up in the shop. I even revealed part of the workbench the other day! I moved out some stuff I’m not using, vacuumed a big part of the floor, and my fancy dancy lights were delivered on Wednesday, so I just need to get the electrician back to get the garage door opener and the lights all connected. It’s all coming together.
When our daughter was in college, it never failed that every time she came home at the end of a semester she would spend at least a day lying on the sofa with a low grade fever. I attributed it to her body’s reaction to the stress of finals and assignments.
Last Saturday after my last full time day of work, I was felled both by a flare up of sciatica and a low grade fever that has lasted all this week. Hmm? Could daughter and I have similar reactions to stress? I think so. She probably inherited it from me.
Both our children teasingly blame me for their propensity to Generalized Anxiety Disorder. From their father they inherited flat feet. I have lumbar scoliosis like my maternal grandmother. So does one of my cousins. I did not inherit my father’s athleticism, but I did his musicality. Goodness only knows where I got A- blood type. I did not inherit my maternal grandmother’s ability to do complex math in her head. Our grandson seems to have that ability, and is proud to tell me that in Grade 1 he can do algebra in his head and is in an enrichment Math program. It is hard at times to know what is nurture and what is nature, but however our forebears hand things down to us, it can make our lives interesting.
What did you inherit or wish you had or hadn’t had inherited from your forebears? Ever read Running In The Family by Michael Ondaatje?
I drove down to the Eden Prairie library yesterday to pick up a copy of Lady in the Lake by Raymond Chandler for the next Blevins. I’ve seen the Robert Montgomery movie but haven’t actually read the novel yet.
The library app showed it checked so I headed to the Mystery section. There were a few Chandlers there but not Lady. Next checked in Fiction; same deal. Finally decided I should look back at the app to make sure I hadn’t mis-read it. On the app it showed this particular tome in Non-Fiction. WT…. Headed back to Non-Fiction, and found it using the Library of Congress classification. The sign on the shelf said “World Fiction”.
I didn’t look any farther to see if maybe he’s shelved anywhere else. I know there are lots of subgenres of all kinds of lit these days but I’m perplexed about why some Chandler is in Mystery, some if in Fiction and some is in World Fiction!
Do you have an author you think should be included on the World Fiction shelves?
Husband has been keeping the bird feeder in the back yard full this winter. Once he fills it, the sentinel chickadee who sits in the lilac hedge and watches him sounds the news, and pretty soon the feeder and the ground below are full of birds. They swoop into the feeder area in groups, and others wait their turn in the lilac hedge and the grapevines on our deck.
We have two very tall spruce trees in the front yard, and many birds hang out there, especially the Eurasian Collared Doves. They also visit the feeder and eat the seed that falls onto the ground. They nest in the spruces and we hear hungry baby doves all summer.
One day last week I was backing out of the driveway when I spotted an American Kestrel sitting on the ground in one of our flower beds right by the sidewalk. It was devouring a dove. The kestrel didn’t seem to mind me at all. It was intent on the fat dove. It always amazes me how small kestrels are. I love the bluish grey on the head and the checkerboard pattern on its underside and legs. It finally flew off with the dove in its claws.
This is not the first kestrel we have had. I have seen them swoop into the spruce trees on one side and emerge seconds later on the other side carrying off a squawking dove. It gets pretty exciting here sometimes!
Any close encountersfor you this past couple of weeks? What is your favorite raptor?
Our community of 28,000 people has four Catholic churches and a very large parochial school system. The churches were originally started for and attended by the various immigrant groups who settled here. The Germans from Russia and the German Hungarians attended St. Joseph’s Church on the south side (less affluent section) of town by the railroad tracks and stockyards. The more affluent Czech immigrants attended St. Wenceslaus, north of the tracks, and the most affluent attended St. Patrick’s Church in the downtown area. The 1970’s oil boom led to a need for another church, Queen of Peace, built in the area of new houses near the interstate.
The Catholic School system has a big Mardi Gras celebration/fundraiser every your during the first weekend of February, ostensibly close to when Mardi Gras happens, although this year it was way earlier than Mardi Gras since Easter is so late this year. The festivities take place at the Catholic High School, just a block from our house. We have never attended, but I understand that every year it is the same with games of chance, big dinners, cakewalks, and fun activities for children. This year, however, they added something quite surprising-dance lessons.
Local dance teachers came to teach Line dancing and Swing dancing, and most surprising, Salsa dancing. We have a fair number of immigrants from Central and South America, and a group of them started a Salsa dance company that is apparently very popular and booked way out for for engagements. They also perform every December 12 at Queen of Peace in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I found a video of Salsa dancing, and it just doesn’t fit the conservative stereotype of our Catholic community.
Can you imagine this happening at a Mass? It sounds like everyone at Mardi Gras had fun learning the moves. What next?
What are your memories of school dances?What is your favorite way to dance?
Trail Baboon 