CSA Produce

Yesterday - CSA Saturday. Broccoli, chard, kale (I am starting to feel about kale like people do about zucchini), and eggs. There was talk of honey the week before, but Chris was out tending to her sick mother and the new intern didn't mention it. And I forgot about it until later in the day.

Anyway, as we speak (so to speak), last week's kale is in the sink with ice cubes; hoping it will rehydrate because I'm making kale chips dammit.

I sauteed the chard with garlic in a little olive oil and finished it with a couple drops (that stuff is potent) of toasted sesame oil and a splash of rice vinegar.
FYI...food photography is an art form not meant for camera phones. It tasted a LOT better than it looks in this picture. It looks like it has spores growing on it, but I think it's the sheen of the olive oil.

Lillie, the noisy girl cat, loves her some greens and goes crazy for me to feed her romaine lettuce, kale or chard.

Lunch tomorrow: cucumbers and broccoli.
Making up for the Five Guys burger (oh, okay. true confessions: and fries) that was yesterday's supper. And the strawberry tart at book club today.

It's Time For Lupus Awareness

My nine year old niece, Samie, has Lupus; she was diagnosed just before her seventh birthday.
Because I'm her aunt, her pen pal (how adorable is that?!), and it's my blog and I can do what I want, I'm letting you all know about the Lupus Walk (in Wisconsin).

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/samantha-patton/10thannualstridesforlupuswalk-wisconsin?fge=ask

A Few Things

I took two videos of Mom today on my phone, she was being hilarious and cracking herself (and me) up, but they are too big to email to my email. Should have done it on the camera. Plus you can't hear her. Shoot.

The view heading into Chapel Hill Wednesday night for dinner at Butternut Squash with a good friend...
(they have the BEST sweet potato fries in the world)

Flowers next to Only Burger and the vines growing on the roof of the walkway - same place.

First Fridays at 3Cups tonight - that means Boxcarr Farms. They outdid themselves again:

Cucumber and potato vichyssoise with yogurt cream, fresh pasta with broccoli rabe and spring onions, tamarind-glazed pork belly over braised green tomatoes with green garlic broth. 

oh my god - so good.

They are doing the Yum Yum Supper Club's next dinner (week after next), it is going to be amazing.

Other Random Thoughts

Spotted in the parking lot of the post office: a truck bearing the name Bland Landscaping Design. I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, but a Doing Business As might be in order here.  


Making egg salad with these:

The best method I've found for cooking eggs comes from America's Test Kitchen (recipe is premium content, basic recap below). Use the oldest eggs you have, they'll peel easier.

1. PLACE eggs in saucepan large enough to hold them in single layer. ADD cold water to cover eggs by 1 inch. HEAT over high heat just to boiling. REMOVE from burner. COVER pan.
2. LET EGGS STAND in hot water about 15 minutes for large eggs (12 minutes for medium eggs; 18 minutes for extra large).
3. With slotted spoon drop into sink of cold water with tray of ice cubes added. Let sit for 5 minutes.

Working around this:

Back to work tomorrow after five days off (including Saturday and Sunday). 

Heard on the radio recently that Americans have the least amount of vacation days (14) and most of us don't take all of them. The French on average get 37 vacation days and take 35 of them. Plus they have a 35 hour work week (I think they still do.). 
Vive la France!


Oh and I'm going to make baked kale chips with the kale from the CSA on Saturday (kale, broccoli, snap peas and eggs this week).


The eggs are amazing. BIG golden yellow yolks. 


Eggs from hens raised on pasture show 4 to 6 times as much vitamin D as typical supermarket eggs. 
• 1⁄3 less cholesterol• 1⁄4 less saturated fat• 2⁄3 more vitamin A• 2 times more omega-3 fatty acids• 3 times more vitamin E• 7 times more beta carotene 

Read more: http://www.motherearthnews.com/eggs.aspx#ixzz1NrvwyxZU

Baked Kale Chips

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon granulated garlic 
3 large handfuls lacinato kale, torn into shreds
1 to 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Preparing to bake. Preheat the oven to 350°. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Combine the salt, smoked paprika, and garlic in a small bowl.

Wash the kale. Rinse the kale leaves, then put them in a salad spinner and spin until the green becomes a blur. Round and round, spinning and spinning — let the kale dry. After it comes out, dry it even more with paper towels. Those leaves should be bone dry.

Oiling the kale. Put the kale leaves in a large bowl. Drizzle over 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Massage the oil into the leaves. You might need more. You might have larger hands than I do. Use your judgment.

Bake the chips. Arrange the kale chips onto the sheet tray and slide it into the oven. Bake until the leaves are crisp to the touch but still a dark green. (When they turn brown, they turn bitter.) Check at the 12-minute mark, to be sure.

Remove them from the oven. Sprinkle with the garlic smoked paprika salt.

Let them cool a bit. Eat.

Found the recipe on this blog: Gluten Free Girl and the Chef  The smoked paprika intrigues me (and I happen to have some). 

Here's a simpler recipe here: http://www.hungry-girl.com/show/surprises-shockers-and-swaps-baked-kale-recipe

Memorial Day

My father served during three wars and was part of the action in the Pacific Theater on LST (Tank Landing Ship) 842. I grew up saluting the flag and saying the pledge of allegiance.  
Now, like Hebrew National hot dogs, I answer to a higher authority and am decidedly unpatriotic. 
I think patriotism [= I am right and you are not] is responsible for so many wars. You must think, believe, sound like, and look JUST LIKE ME. If you don't, I might have to kill you and count myself right in doing so. I might even have to manufacture something to justify it (you worship the wrong god, drink baby's blood, or have weapons of mass destruction for instance.). The Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C. undoes me - because I feel inescapably responsible. How can I not? Reflected in the polished stone, behind all those names - is my face. 


Once I stopped with my anam cara (soul friend in Irish) in LA to visit friends of hers from Africa. I did not know them and aside from some minimal courtesies in English the conversation was entirely in French, of which I understand about five words. 
I sat there eating peanuts, listening for one of my five recognizable French words, and wishing my headache would go away; then suddenly I started crying uncontrollably; I went through all the napkins on the table and a good portion of a roll of toilet paper, unable to stop.  Turns out they were talking about their village being overrun with soldiers, families separated, people killed. One of their daughters was still in Africa and they were hoping she was safe. 


The distinct impression was that God let me touch just for a nanosecond a minuscule portion of His grief  over what we do to one another - in His name. A whole other story - kind of. Because religion and power and patriotism are an [unholy] trinity that millions have died for and from.
Even though I have heard this said by some Christians, I still haven't found the passage in the Bible that says that America is God's chosen country and we (Americans) are his chosen people.
Remember Shadrach, Meshach and Abendago and their refusal to show patriotism (bow down/worship/pledge allegiance) to the king of Babylon?  Just saying...

Patriotism is a virtue of the vicious. Oscar Wilde


Heroism on command, senseless violence, and all the loathsome nonsense that goes by the name of patriotism — how passionately I hate them! Albert Einstein


Nationalism is our form of incest, is our idolatry, is our insanity. "Patriotism" is its cult. It should hardly be necessary to say, that by "patriotism" I mean that attitude which puts the own nation above humanity, above the principles of truth and justice; not the loving interest in one's own nation, which is the concern with the nation's spiritual as much as with its material welfare — never with its power over other nations. Just as love for one individual which excludes the love for others is not love, love for one's country which is not part of one's love for humanity is not love, but idolatrous worship. Erich Fromm


Conceit, arrogance, and egotism are the essentials of patriotism. ... Patriotism assumes that our globe is divided into little spots, each one surrounded by an iron gate. Those who have had the fortune of being born on some particular spot, consider themselves better, nobler, grander, more intelligent than the living beings inhabiting any other spot. It is, therefore, the duty of everyone living on that chosen spot to fight, kill, and die in the attempt to impose his superiority upon all the others. Emma Goldman


True patriotism hates injustice in its own land more than anywhere else. Clarence Darrow


Wouldn't it be nice NOT to have to have a Memorial Day?

Goofy Little Cat #2

This is what this goofy cat does [watch the above ten second video]; after smooshing the box, he "surfs" over to the food dish, lays down on the box, scoops food from the dish onto the box...and then eats it.
I only have a photo of the latter:

So weird.

Wikihow

Because I am a lemming, just like everyone else, iGoogle is my home page; on iGoogle you can add fun widgets to personalize your page.
Here are my widgets, starting on the left: date and time, Google Calendar, daily quotes (love quotes!), Wikihow, Word Monkey (dictionary); middle column: moon phases, Gmail, Google Reader (all the blogs I follow in one place - when you have a new post - Google Reader tells me); right column: the local weather, NPR Topics: News,  BBC News, and CNN.com.

Wikihow is how-to's.
Today's are "How to Recommend Someone on Tumblr" (I don't even know what Tumblr is, so probably won't read that one); "In Honor of Conan Doyle's Birthday - How to Develop Your Sherlock Holmes Intuition"; and finally, "How to Eat a Banana".

Gee, thanks Wikihow!

Now I'm off to develop my Sherlock Holmes intuition.

Thank God That's Over

It is now safe to roam about the cabin.

I can also change my Facebook photo from this:

back to this:

or maybe even this:

OMGah! Thank you TJ Maxx for perpetuating the crazy cat lady persona. (shhhhh...listen...you can hear all the dog people congratulating themselves on being dog people...even if they have twenty yappy little dogs who never shut up and their yard consists of only dog poop and no-one can come in their house without a courtesy leg hump - they are feeling might-tee fine about having canines right now...)

Yes, I went on over to CB on Mother's Day. We wandered around, sat outside, where she scratched her legs and said "Iggy", about nine thousand times.
Then we changed her underwear/diaper. She kept saying "iggy" then too.
Not half as iggy as it was for me.
I would like to never do that again please.

When I came home, W., the youngest daughter of the people I used to work for, (known her since she was four - she'll be seventeen in the fall.), had left this card on my doorstep:

I know it was from her because a few years ago, while we (her parents/my employers, W. and myself) were shopping for office furniture, the salesman, making conversation with an eight year old, asked if I was her grandmother. (I'm younger than her parents.) She thought it was HILARIOUS. And couldn't wait to relay that conversation at dinner.
So now I get her cards from Grandma on her birthday and she calls me that when I show up at school functions. Good times. (no, really, it is pretty damn funny.)

Fie on Mother's Day anyway though.

Shoe-in

Whew, I feel like it's been ages since I wrote anything. Busy, trying to make this job work - money wise that is. And sort out all the relationship potholes. My favorite (not).
Back working after hours for The Dude, a.k.a. my realtor friend, making flyers and virtual tours online. It's fun. Want to see one of my favorites? Follow this link: http://tours.tourfactory.com/tours/tour.asp?t=670675

Anywoo, here I sit, on a hard bench as Lillie is in my chair, (a little bit of quiet is worth a sore butt in my opinion), with some raisin toast and a cup of black coffee since I forgot to get milk yesterday; trying to put something down you faithful few might find interesting.

Yesterday was our CSA box pick-up: eggs, broccoli, several kinds of lettuce and peas. For another $7 I picked up a couple of fat country style ribs (they look like chops). Waiting for the eggs to get a little older so they'll boil/peel better - been craving some egg salad.

Just hung some laundry on the drying rack in the bathroom and look what I found:

ANYWAY. (I do not have A.D.D. Really.)









Thursday I took some new shoes over to Mom. The doctor said her shoes seemed tight, so I had a date with DSW (alone, because when we went together it was a fiasco.)
She always thinks the stuff I bring is for me. Or maybe with opposite disorder, she means her but says me. Whatever.

We start the process:
Me: Mom, sit here. (motioning to the ottoman)
Mom: These are all here. (picking up one of the pillows that fill the chair, several of which are NOT hers)
Me: Great. Sit here please, [patting the ottoman], so we can try the shoes on.
Mom: Shoes? Are they yours?
Me: Nooooo...they're for you. You need to try them on.
Mom: Fry them around? (Walking over to the bag on the bed and peering inside.)
Me: TRY. Try them on to see if they're comfortable and you like them. Here, sit down.
Mom: (standing next to the ottoman but still unclear on the action)
Me: Put your tuchas here Cinderella.
Mom: (laughing) I know. (still not sitting down)
This goes on for another few interchanges, then she finally gets it and sits down.
She tries on the first pair.
Mom: These are anything anything anything?
Me: Ummmmm...I'm not sure? How do these feel?
Mom: Iggy.
Me: Oh great. Stop saying that. (knowing full well she knows not what she says) Do they feel good?

Mom: (walking around the room) I guess I can have some.

Me: oh god.

Mom: Iggy.

Me: Seriously, don't say that. Let's try on another pair.

Mom: For you?

Me: (sigh) No, for you, these are all for you.

Mom: Okay, then we can get going.

Me: I had a red one but the wheel fell off. (Soooooo mean)

Mom: I know.

We repeated the above three more times and settled on two pair of shoes. Then we paraded our new shoes (What new shoes?) out into the living room and then to the dining room for supper.

On the way a woman stopped us and asked where I was from. 

Durham.

Durham?

Yes.

Oh, I thought you came from the laundry room.

I really didn't know how to respond to that. 

So we continued on.

In the dining room, after a three minute dance getting Mom seated (what's that about?), she unwrapped and wrapped her silverware.

That's where I left her, in her new shoes.

  

I Love Portuguese

I know, I've said this before.
French used to be my favorite foreign language, but, sorry Francais, you have been replaced by the very sexy, round language of Portuguese. (Do languages have shapes to you or it that just me? For instance, German is very sharp and pointy, like a triangle; Spanish is oval.)

So here is a Portuguese 101 video (the young man is ADORABLE!)
Hello = Oi.
(In Cockney, Oi means WTF?! or Hey! or something similar.)

What Five Dollars Will Get You

Woodcrest Farm, site of several canning and cheese making adventures, is now offering ~$10 a week melange of organic produce, meat, free range eggs, and honey (not necessarily all at the same time).
I'm splitting the box with a friend - making it just $5.00 each!

This is my haul from yesterday (our first): HALF of a red leaf lettuce (it was monstrous!), half the swiss chard, half a kohlrabi (related to cabbage), snap peas, and half a dozen eggs. You couldn't get that for $5.00 in a store.

If you read this blog and are in the Chapel Hill/Durham area - give them a call and sign up (click on their name above). It's a great deal. They will also do an all meat/egg box, although that is more than the $10 average price.
I can't wait until the tomatoes come in!


*************************************************************************
This is what a whole kohlrabi looks like:

I'd never had it before.
It tastes like a cross between cabbage and a mild radish. The texture is more radish than cabbage; it reminds me a little of jicama, but not as sweet.

Jicama

I like it.

Been a Long Time

And if you're expecting I'll have something interesting to say after my hiatus - you are so, so wrong.

Well, a bit late, at least for those who had interaction with me, I figured out why I felt so fragile week before last.
Last Saturday marked the twelfth year of my dad's death. Those anniversary traumas can sneak up on one. Everything was all relationship overboard! I'd throw them the lifeline, but it would hit them in the head and knock them unconscious. Trying to fix it made it worse. Ugh. I HATE that. Makes me want to be a hermit.
I almost didn't go on the Jordan Lake sunset cruise. Because the only thing worse than being in all that crap - is  talking about it; doing that in my head non-stop already. Playing the tape over and over, re-winding...that's where I said x and then they said y and...
Anyway. All patched up for now.

Today is Mother's Day - another Hallmark holiday. Grumble, grumble, grumble. I am SO LIKE MY FATHER. Who loved his mother - but hated holidays. (My mother swore he liked Christmas more than she did, but I didn't believe her.) Forced allegiance to whatever retail buying scheme is attached to the said holiday. How many guilty Mother's Day crappy brunches will be had today? How much money spent on roses that don't smell and will never open (just droop)?
 If you love your mom, you love her everyday - not just today when you're told you're supposed to. If you don't - she already knows it. One day of BS and a sappy card you don't mean is not going to change it. Save your money.

I have issues people.

Speaking of mothers, the woman formerly known as my mother, has not been seen in awhile. I still have Easter toys for her, shampoo and body wash.
I know I've said this before, but I don't like going to CB. Sigh.

Strange flowers at Cedar Creek Gallery

My neighbor's roses

Jordan Lake Sunset Cruise

Friday evening several of the Gals went on a Jordan Lake sunset cruise. One of our own retired Friday, so we had another reason to celebrate - besides TGIF. The weather and the company were perfect!

Captain Don supplied glasses, ice, soft drinks, and a wonderful dip his wife makes. During the tour we learned many facts about Jordan Lake, (man-made, 18 miles long, 180 [I think] miles of shore line), as we relaxed and enjoyed the scenery and the great spring evening.

Primary colors

Great blue heron

There's a bald eagle's nest in there somewhere

Perfect way to celebrate your retirement!

Solo gets her sea lake legs!

Here is the information to book your own tour:

Description	Guided Boat Tours on Jordan Lake for Private Groups Up to 12. Eco-Tours, Sunset Cruises, Special Events...and More!
Phone	919-585-1488
Website	http://www.TriangleBoatTours.com
Hours	Mon - Sat: 7:00 am - 10:00 pm Sun: 12:00 pm - 10:00 pm

Civil War Blog

For the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War, UNC is doing a blog post every day.

"The concept of Civil War Day by Day is a simple one: every day for the next four years, we will present a document that is 150 years old to the day."

You can link to it on the left under my blog list or here: http://www.lib.unc.edu/blogs/civilwar/

While you're reading it, listen to this song Arrowhead, by Richard Shindell. 

I double dog dare you not to cry. 

Bye Bye Birdie

This is the view out my office window. 

There's lots of bird action out there: doves, cardinals, common grackles (with their creepy eyes), Carolina wrens, Carolina chickadees, mockingbirds, and even blue jays.

(Here's a great birding site http://www.allaboutbirds.org)

My parents were big bird watchers. There they'd sit on the screened in porch, smoking and waiting for the male painted bunting, an elusive and painfully shy creature, to show his lovely painted self, consulting the bird books in the meantime. 

My father, a naturalist in a former life, always got a big kick out of the mostly grown young cardinals peeping and fluffing their feathers trying to get their parents to feed them. 

They also watched the Weather Channel constantly. "Don't know why, they never go anywhere", my brother once drolly observed.

Perhaps because of the WC, they both were [overly?] concerned with rainfall and would check the rain gauge everyday. Okay, so what...right? 

Well, they went one (or five) step further and wrote down the amount on a special calendar (smaller than a regular calendar so it fit inside the cabinet door. Keep it secret! Keep it safe!), and tallied up the monthly and yearly rainfall. 

Need to know how much rainfall north Florida had in 1995? Compared with 1994? Why yes, we have those calendars with the totals! If they had known about spreadsheets, they would have had one - with charts. 

My parents were weird and you know it. 

I Got You...

Hung out with Mom after work this afternoon.
Took her the birthday card from Aunt Trish that I kept forgetting to give her, and after several discussions about just whose birthday it was for she said, "Well, I have it now and you too Mommy."

We sat outside in a courtyard for a few minutes, enjoying the sun (keeping in mind the skin cancer) and these giant purple flowers I think were some sort of clematis.

They looked similar to this:

There were four other people enjoying the weather with us.
To our left were two woman I thought might have been sisters, but turns out they were mother and daughter. As the daughter explained how she got to be the child, ("You and Daddy married..."), the mother seemed taken aback by the whole sordid affair. "I don't think that's right, I'm your daughter!"
Sigh...

Mom started to pick at a piece of skin on her hand. I patted her hand to stop the picking.
Nice kitty. (Just to be silly)
"You made me a kitty?"
Yes.
"Oh wow. That's a lot of harridan."
Sure is.

We strolled and sat, strolled and sat until it was time for her supper and I came home to feed those bratty harridans.

Farm Tour

This afternoon, CP, the mascots and I went on the Piedmont Farm Tour. It was a beautiful day, sky all scrubbed clean from the terrible killer weather system that rolled through yesterday (most of the people who died from that system were in NC. The Gov declared a state of emergency.).

We went to Celebrity Goat Farm, where we partook of some deviled eggs and other delights, and I bought some banana butter (like apple butter, except...you know). I'm not a fan of goat cheese unless it's really mild, so I passed.
Then we went to some other place that was so unappealing that I've already forgotten its name, then on to Spence's farm where the mascots showed us their familiarity with a banty rooster named Henry and all the horses, having done some after school time there. Ending up at Maple View and ice cream - just like last year.

Did I take pictures of animals? No.
(Although the little donkey at Maple View was adorable)

I Love YouTube

I have discovered YouTube.
That's right.
About 5 years after the rest of the world.

Obviously, I am not a first adapter or whatever those people are called who stand in line at the Apple store for days so they can get the brand new i-whojamacallit. I still listen to music on CD's for Pete's sake.

Yesterday I saw Paris at night, listened to Buffalo Springfield, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, John Fahey, watched an episode of The Borgias, as well as Carol Burnett bloopers (prepare to laugh until you cry with those.). There's the Japanese cat Maru or I can get my dog fix. Speaking of fixes, I can get one for my favorite Bollywood actor, Saif Ali Khan too.

So there you have it.
YouTube.
How I love thee.

Beautiful Song

(Rodrigo Leao Carpe Diem)
I've played this about sixteen times (and downloaded it) since finding it last night while I waited for a foot cramp to abate. The images are wonderful too.

I love the way Portuguese sounds - like Spanish and French had a baby.

Pondering

So this new job, the one where I field calls from people suffering (along with other boring paperworky type stuff) is..is what? Okay? Good enough?

I really, really like the people I work with. They are committed to helping others and take this charge seriously. I like that. I also like feeling that I'm contributing to "the good".

But you know what? All that stuff I said about it being more worthwhile to help people than it is to make money is kinda BS. I feel like I've fallen from grace, that I'm being punished. Why should I (or anyone) in the social services have to settle for less?

Our whole system of what is a "worthwhile" profession and what isn't is skewed. Seriously skewed.
When the person who fixes your computer makes more per hour than the person who takes care of your drug addicted child or your aging parent - something is wrong.

Part of it is the recession (that's over, according to some) and the other bigger part is - helping people is not as valued as, say, developing software.

For fun, let's look at the average salaries of:
Teachers - $40,000
Social workers - $38,000
Policemen - $50,000
Firefighters - $42,500
And now:
Mechanical engineer - $64,500
Software architect - $109,5000
CEO - $232,000
http://www.payscale.com/

What happened there?
Why do we value things over people?

Broad Street Flower Pot

Spotted last night as I walked to the Craven Allen Gallery. 

Cats Like Clean Sheets

It's Pajama Day

Not to be confused with The Pajama Game - my least favorite Doris Day movie. (My favorite, Pillow Talk.)

Pajama day is just what it sounds like - stay in my pj's all day, glasses (not contacts), no make-up, drink too much coffee, radio on 88.1, cinnamon rolls (Pillsbury). It's drab and gray outside, which is perfect for PJD. I'm looking forward to organizing some drawers later, (I know! the weird things some people get pleasure from); one load of laundry done, another to go. (Lillie - shut up! - you cannot have my chair!)

Friday night some of us met at Foster's Market for Sara Foster's latest book signing - conveniently right next door at Flyleaf Books. Small plates and drinks (wine, beer, Salty Dogs) were to be had. Goat cheese canapés with pepper jelly, hushpuppies with jalapeño mayo, catfish, grits and tomatoes (how my mom made them!), shortbread cookies. It was a pretty good FREE spread. :)

Yesterday afternoon a friend and I went to Craven Allen Gallery for the opening reception for Beverly McIver; nice work. Her sister, Renee, the subject of many of her paintings, was there, selling potholders and showing people the pictures that were of her. Beverly also has a documentary about her and Renee's life coming up at the Full Frame Film Festival.
Then we went down a few doors to Watts Grocery for a little nosh. The strawberry rhubarb tart was worth every penny of the $8. The crust was perfect.

I drove home in a downpour, flinching every time a pink exclamation point of lightning punctuated the grey wet. I hate lightning. In Florida, I once sat in my truck for 45 minutes waiting for a storm cell to pass, too frightened to make the dash up the stairs to my apartment.

On an entirely different note: if you ever come upon a funeral procession down here in Dixie - pull over! Even if you're on the opposite side of the street.
Yesterday on my way to the walk at Bolin Creek, I was behind such a procession for most of the way and was appalled (okay - judgmental. Whatever.) at how many people didn't do that. WHAT?! Some [completely rude] jerks even had the nerve to take advantage of the people that did pull over and pass them. Wow. The police car in front should have alerted even the most oblivious driver that something was up.
Now you can't say you didn't know.

This video is Breathe Owl Breathe - Dog Walkers of the New Age. I heard it on the way home last week and loved it.
I'm off to organize - appropriately enough -  my pajama drawer.

***************************************************************
While we're on the food topic: after our Saturday walk we replace all (and then some) of the calories we might have walked off by having breakfast/lunch at Foster's or Weaver Street Market, depending on where we perambulate.
So yesterday - Foster's had mac & cheese + pepperoni.
Shut. Your. Piehole.
That was not my selection, (bacon, spinach and avocado sandwich on sunflower bread), but I did get a bite. Man, was it good!

A Bad Day To Be An Empath

Usually I just turn my curmudgeon up and drown it out, but this morning I was unable to do that.

I work for a substance abuse recovery program for teenage males. Being the gatekeeper and first responder to the pain and frustration of wits-ended parents is bad enough. (I remember those days well.) 

But sometimes, like this morning, adults with substance abuse problems call and they are truly desperate. (The teenagers are having a GREAT time, they really don't get that there's a problem.)

When people actually get a person, they launch into their story (don't you? when you finally get that real person at the bank?). 

They tell you me everything; all of the ugly sad stuff just tumbles out. Pain seeps through the telephone wires.

All I can do is give them some phone numbers. 

Then cry in the bathroom.

Iggy

Mom's record seems to have developed a skip. She says "iggy" [icky?] about every other sentence now. Sometimes several times in a row, "Iggy, iggy, iggy" and sometimes it's a question, "Iggy?".
Versatile word iggy, yes?

Today her lazy selfish daughter did what she should have done MONTHS ago and took her to get her nails done. To drive the guilty point home they said, "She have all new ones now - no fill in. Too old."
Just cut to the chase next time and tell me I'm a loser straight up.

Gack.

I'm too sad and tired to write any funny stuff, there was some. Not as much because most everything is iggy now. That's not funny anymore.
We ate next door to Mimi's at Dickie's. Crappy BBQ and lots of it.
WHEN AM I GOING TO REMEMBER TO SPLIT THINGS?! I don't know.
It was over $21 for two items and two drinks. Ridiculous.

Ummmm, free ice cream!

Oh The Horror!

So last night I was looking forward to watching the last disc of Weeds season 6 and the DVD tray wouldn't open! Worked just fine Friday night. You can imagine my dismay. And the many minutes of pressing buttons that ensued.

No cable and now no DVD? Downright un-American. What's an addict to do?!
I decided to go all Scarlett O'Hara on the situation and played the Nintendo DS until I got sleepy.

This morning I went through my instruction manuals which are saved with receipts in a binder. Laugh all you want, but when I forget how to program my thermostat or want to know when I bought my low flow toilet - I know where to go.

There under "troubleshooting" was my problem: Tray lock mode enable. (exactly how it's worded)
And the answer is: Disable tray lock mode. Great! Yay! EXCEPT THEY DON"T TELL YOU HOW TO DO THAT!!!!
Or how I might have "enable" tray lock mode in the first place. W. T. F.

I went online. The answer: unplug the device for 2-3 minutes. Basically reboot.
I did.
Tray still doesn't open. Thanks for nothing Toshiba.

The DVD player is only 4 years old, that seems too soon for it to be on the fritz. But they are so cheap now that it would be uneconomical to take it somewhere for repair.