Do you suppose Marsha Davis had a bad day?
Friday, March 02, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
A Story from Lis
I stepped across the lobby of the Hopkins Fine Arts Center on the night of Feb. 28 and stood in front of the Information Desk. The youngish (mid-20's) man behind the desk reluctantly interrupted his phone conversation.
"Yes?"
"I'm here for the writing class with The Loft."
He was impatiently confused. "A reading class?"
"Writing."
He was still confused. "Here?" He looked at his computer monitor. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure it's here."
"Are you sure it's not the Ellison Center?" [not sure if that's the name he said, but that's what I heard]
"Yeah."
I opened my padfolio and pulled out the course description and location I'd printed out earlier. "L-27 2, maybe? Is that a classroom?"
He was still puzzled. I handed him the sheet of paper.The course I am taking is on "Capturing Memory." It's about getting details to stay in your mind.
Here's a detail: It starts on March 14.
I don't even want to try to figure out how I made this mix-up. I took the paper back from the young gentleman, who was almost managing to keep a courteous tone (he's probably an actor), although his face said, "This may, indeed, be the dumbest person I've ever met."
"Well," I said, tucking the sheet back in the padfolio pocket, "I'll be back in two weeks then. Maybe I'll see you, if you're here."
"Oh, I'll be here," he said.
Darnit
"Yes?"
"I'm here for the writing class with The Loft."
He was impatiently confused. "A reading class?"
"Writing."
He was still confused. "Here?" He looked at his computer monitor. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure it's here."
"Are you sure it's not the Ellison Center?" [not sure if that's the name he said, but that's what I heard]
"Yeah."
I opened my padfolio and pulled out the course description and location I'd printed out earlier. "L-27 2, maybe? Is that a classroom?"
He was still puzzled. I handed him the sheet of paper.The course I am taking is on "Capturing Memory." It's about getting details to stay in your mind.
Here's a detail: It starts on March 14.
I don't even want to try to figure out how I made this mix-up. I took the paper back from the young gentleman, who was almost managing to keep a courteous tone (he's probably an actor), although his face said, "This may, indeed, be the dumbest person I've ever met."
"Well," I said, tucking the sheet back in the padfolio pocket, "I'll be back in two weeks then. Maybe I'll see you, if you're here."
"Oh, I'll be here," he said.
Darnit
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Pull Over! Pull Over! For Pete's Sake!
This is for all the people who fail to pull over for emergency vehicles:
You.
Suck.
Yes, I realize that is not a very refined phrase. But people! When the doohickies are flashing on the top of a firetruck, TURN THE VOLUME DOWN ON THE RADIO and listen for the siren! Then? Pull over.
I used to think people stopped pulling over for these things because they just didn't care. But I honestly now think that people just don't notice. They are so tuned into the tunes or NPR or whatever book they are "reading" that they don't notice traffic around them. Even when it's barrelling toward them with lights and sirens flashing.
What prompted this tirade? No, I have no tragic story of "failure to pull over." But you know, it coulda bin a little tragic.
Yesterday, I'm driving along to have lunch with a friend. I see the lights of a firetruck coming toward me. Maybe it's 1/4 a mile away. I start to slow down. Guy in the car behind me creeps up to my back bumper. I start to pull over. Guy in the car behind me gets so close that I doubt a slice of bread could be slid between our cars. He jerks his wheel toward the center line...obviously thinking he's going to pass this nut in the green van that has suddenly, inexplicably decided to pull over on a busy street.
Just in time he sees the firetruck.
He yanks back.
We all breathe.
I mutter "idiot."
Firetruck passes by and life goes on.
Pay attention people!
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Of Garbage and Bets
I had to chuckle when I read this story (the link will probably not work after March 1) about British trash customers being upset about microchips that have been stuck to their wheeled carts. "Wheelies," they call them...the carts. They are calling the chips "bugs."
Apparently Britain has one of the lowest recycling rates in Europe. (SHAME ON THEM!) Chips were stuck to more than 500,000 "wheelie bins" to "monitor collections."
"Germans Plant Bugs in Our Wheelie Bins," was a headline in the Daily Mail in August. (Apparently two of the bin manufacturers are German companies.)
The story tells of "small-scale revolts" erupting across the UK as customers have found the devices and ripped them off the carts.
There's the whole "Big Brother" concern but there's also the idea that the chips could be used to calculate garbage charges. And officials have admitted that is a long-term goal.
The article doesn't say it, but I guess if I were a municipal garbage customer, I'd be wondering about my dollars being wasted on the devices themselves.
This afternoon I watched the movie "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days." Cute, cute movie! I was never attracted to the title before, and skipped going to see it in the theatre and never really have felt much like renting it. But it was on AMC yesterday afternoon so I recorded it.
And a good soundtrack. I'm listening to Chantal Kreviazuk on Napster right now. She had two songs in the movie, "Feels Like Home" and "Weight of the World," both enjoyable songs. I'd never heard of her before, but I think I'll put her in my playlist for a while...she's good for cooking to, I think. I'm not finding "Feels Like Home" on Napster, though.
And speaking of cooking...this afternoon I've been roasting a duck. I used to make a duck recipe of Alton Brown's that involved steaming the pieces and then roasting at a high temp in a cast iron skillet in the oven. The kids raved about it. This time I really didn't feel much like going to all that, so looked in my "Joy of Cooking" book and found recipe for slow-roasting. 3 hours at 250 and then another 45 minutes or so at 325. It's just about done and I think it's going to be great. No flame-ups, either. Pricking the skin all over and roasting it low and slow has done the trick.
It's been a good afternoon for roasting something and vegging in front of the TV. Dark and rainy all day.
Apparently Britain has one of the lowest recycling rates in Europe. (SHAME ON THEM!) Chips were stuck to more than 500,000 "wheelie bins" to "monitor collections."
"Germans Plant Bugs in Our Wheelie Bins," was a headline in the Daily Mail in August. (Apparently two of the bin manufacturers are German companies.)
The story tells of "small-scale revolts" erupting across the UK as customers have found the devices and ripped them off the carts.
There's the whole "Big Brother" concern but there's also the idea that the chips could be used to calculate garbage charges. And officials have admitted that is a long-term goal.
The article doesn't say it, but I guess if I were a municipal garbage customer, I'd be wondering about my dollars being wasted on the devices themselves.
This afternoon I watched the movie "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days." Cute, cute movie! I was never attracted to the title before, and skipped going to see it in the theatre and never really have felt much like renting it. But it was on AMC yesterday afternoon so I recorded it.
And a good soundtrack. I'm listening to Chantal Kreviazuk on Napster right now. She had two songs in the movie, "Feels Like Home" and "Weight of the World," both enjoyable songs. I'd never heard of her before, but I think I'll put her in my playlist for a while...she's good for cooking to, I think. I'm not finding "Feels Like Home" on Napster, though.
And speaking of cooking...this afternoon I've been roasting a duck. I used to make a duck recipe of Alton Brown's that involved steaming the pieces and then roasting at a high temp in a cast iron skillet in the oven. The kids raved about it. This time I really didn't feel much like going to all that, so looked in my "Joy of Cooking" book and found recipe for slow-roasting. 3 hours at 250 and then another 45 minutes or so at 325. It's just about done and I think it's going to be great. No flame-ups, either. Pricking the skin all over and roasting it low and slow has done the trick.
It's been a good afternoon for roasting something and vegging in front of the TV. Dark and rainy all day.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Yes. He Really Talks Like This
While I was visiting Minnesota a couple of weeks ago, I called home to ask Mensa Boy a question.
Nate answered the phone.
"Hi! This is your mother. Is Dad around?"
"Yes. But currently he is conducting a transaction with a kid at the front door."
Last night I came home from an appointment right at 6 p.m. It was suppertime. I had no idea what to have. I didn't feel like going back out to pick up something.
"I'm not sure what we should have for supper. Any ideas?"
"Well, there is still a pizza in the freezer, unless you were thinking we should eat in unanimity."
das my boy....
Nate answered the phone.
"Hi! This is your mother. Is Dad around?"
"Yes. But currently he is conducting a transaction with a kid at the front door."
Last night I came home from an appointment right at 6 p.m. It was suppertime. I had no idea what to have. I didn't feel like going back out to pick up something.
"I'm not sure what we should have for supper. Any ideas?"
"Well, there is still a pizza in the freezer, unless you were thinking we should eat in unanimity."
das my boy....
Monday, February 19, 2007
Hippo Dreams
There is no polite response to this question:
"Did I tell you about my hippo dream?"
Yes, he did tell me about his hippo dream. Once was enough. It seems he was out walking in the Sahara desert when a miniature hippo threatened at him. Yes...miniature. Shorter than his knees.
No. It did not bite him.
No. He doesn't know why he was in the desert.
And no. He doesn't know why a hippo was in it.
But it must have made quite an impression on Mensa Boy, because he's mentioned this dream twice in the last two days.
"Did I tell you about my hippo dream?"
Yes, he did tell me about his hippo dream. Once was enough. It seems he was out walking in the Sahara desert when a miniature hippo threatened at him. Yes...miniature. Shorter than his knees.
No. It did not bite him.
No. He doesn't know why he was in the desert.
And no. He doesn't know why a hippo was in it.
But it must have made quite an impression on Mensa Boy, because he's mentioned this dream twice in the last two days.
It's Gone...For a While
Today I had to take my Fuji FinePix camera to Best Buy for repair. The little lens covers don't open all the way, for some reason. It is apparently out of warranty, so I'll be paying something and waiting 2-4 weeks for that something to happen.
It will be a little tough to work without a camera. But the school has a couple I can borrow.
As I walked out of there with just the neckstrap in my hand, it kind of reminded me of taking the dog to the vet for the last time.
That was a dramatic statement, wasn't it?
Today is President's Day. What does that mean? Usually no school. But our district is in session today to make up for a snow day we had a few weeks ago. Better we make it up now than during Spring Break.
What does this mean for me? Well, when I worked in an office I used to love days like President's Day. We never had the day off, but there'd be no mail. NO MAIL!!! So that meant it was a good day to get caught up on the stuff I already had to do without worrying about new stuff coming in.
Now in my pathetic, work-at-home state, it just means that there's no mail to break up the monotony of the day.
It will be a little tough to work without a camera. But the school has a couple I can borrow.
As I walked out of there with just the neckstrap in my hand, it kind of reminded me of taking the dog to the vet for the last time.
That was a dramatic statement, wasn't it?
Today is President's Day. What does that mean? Usually no school. But our district is in session today to make up for a snow day we had a few weeks ago. Better we make it up now than during Spring Break.
What does this mean for me? Well, when I worked in an office I used to love days like President's Day. We never had the day off, but there'd be no mail. NO MAIL!!! So that meant it was a good day to get caught up on the stuff I already had to do without worrying about new stuff coming in.
Now in my pathetic, work-at-home state, it just means that there's no mail to break up the monotony of the day.
Friday, February 16, 2007
S.C.U.M.Y
It's going to be a SCUMY weekend for Mensa Boy and our oldest son Nate. They are going to the beach for the South Carolina United Methodist Youth Convention. Preacher Tony boy is going along as a chaperone, too. The youth group at church has really grown. I have no idea how many kids are going, but I know it's in the double digits. Pretty good for a small church like ours.
So Taylor and I are batchin' it this weekend. I bought King Crab Legs for supper as a surprise. I did this a couple of years ago and we had them with neighbor Mary. This year Taylor's buddy Freddy may be with us.
Earlier this week Nate did some job shodowing with a biology professor at the University of South Carolina-Lancaster. He liked it a lot. Didn't come home saying he wanted to teach at the college level, but he did think that whole teaching thing was pretty cool.
My buddy who works for the county picked Nate up that morning and took him to work with her, and then ran him over to the campus at 9:30. During the 40 minutes they were in her office, she had him do a task for him. Stuffing envelopes. Here's what transpired:
"I'm not licking these shut, right?" Nate asked.
"Nope. That's someone else's job," she replied.
"Well, I guess I'm done then. What else would you like me to do?"
"There is nothing else. You should have paced yourself."
"Well, what else do you do all day?"
"Hmmm...at 11 I go pick up the mail." (it was 9 a.m.)
So Taylor and I are batchin' it this weekend. I bought King Crab Legs for supper as a surprise. I did this a couple of years ago and we had them with neighbor Mary. This year Taylor's buddy Freddy may be with us.
Earlier this week Nate did some job shodowing with a biology professor at the University of South Carolina-Lancaster. He liked it a lot. Didn't come home saying he wanted to teach at the college level, but he did think that whole teaching thing was pretty cool.
My buddy who works for the county picked Nate up that morning and took him to work with her, and then ran him over to the campus at 9:30. During the 40 minutes they were in her office, she had him do a task for him. Stuffing envelopes. Here's what transpired:
"I'm not licking these shut, right?" Nate asked.
"Nope. That's someone else's job," she replied.
"Well, I guess I'm done then. What else would you like me to do?"
"There is nothing else. You should have paced yourself."
"Well, what else do you do all day?"
"Hmmm...at 11 I go pick up the mail." (it was 9 a.m.)
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Off, On
School.
It began with the power unceremoniously blinking off at 6:40 a.m. One never knows the extent of an outage until the cold is braved and the neighborhood is scoped out. It was obvious from the start that it involved at least our street...everyone's porch lights were out.
Mensa Boy left for work and when he called a few minutes later I asked if he could tell how far the outage went. "Just past the school," he said. The building had some emergency lights on, and the traffic signals ("red lights" in southern-speak) were out.
Then buddy Rena called. "No school today," she said. "We can take the kids to school but they will sit in the gym until the power comes back on around 10 or so." She said if the kids don't come today they will not be counted absent. She took hers back home.
So I decided to go to the school to pick up Fred, the little guy who comes to my house after school each day. I knew his mother had dropped him at school.
But when I arrived, the lights were back on. Everything back to normal.
So I called Rena. She was just leaving the house and circled back to the get her kids again. I picked mine up and took them to school. Passed Rena at the 4-way stop by our house. She was delayed getting her kids back to the school because she'd already had them change into play clothes. "I told them they could wear those school clothes (uniforms) tomorrow, so to change to play clothes," she said.
So now it's 8:40 and things appear to be back to normal. Except that I appear to have pulled a muscle when I tried to keep the garage door from sliding down on my head.
It began with the power unceremoniously blinking off at 6:40 a.m. One never knows the extent of an outage until the cold is braved and the neighborhood is scoped out. It was obvious from the start that it involved at least our street...everyone's porch lights were out.
Mensa Boy left for work and when he called a few minutes later I asked if he could tell how far the outage went. "Just past the school," he said. The building had some emergency lights on, and the traffic signals ("red lights" in southern-speak) were out.
Then buddy Rena called. "No school today," she said. "We can take the kids to school but they will sit in the gym until the power comes back on around 10 or so." She said if the kids don't come today they will not be counted absent. She took hers back home.
So I decided to go to the school to pick up Fred, the little guy who comes to my house after school each day. I knew his mother had dropped him at school.
But when I arrived, the lights were back on. Everything back to normal.
So I called Rena. She was just leaving the house and circled back to the get her kids again. I picked mine up and took them to school. Passed Rena at the 4-way stop by our house. She was delayed getting her kids back to the school because she'd already had them change into play clothes. "I told them they could wear those school clothes (uniforms) tomorrow, so to change to play clothes," she said.
So now it's 8:40 and things appear to be back to normal. Except that I appear to have pulled a muscle when I tried to keep the garage door from sliding down on my head.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
A.M. and P.M. Yoga
I wrote about Candelight Yoga the other day. I still don't have that DVD...it's supposed to arrive at Barnes & Noble sometime today (and since I'm such a procrastinator, I'll have to get the guys' Valentines when I go pick up the DVD).
I was very stiff and sore Friday night and just felt like I needed to get some sort of yoga thing going before the other DVD came in. So I checked out several on Amazon and found that this one is the top-selling one. Lots and lots of great customer reviews.
And every one of them is well-deserved. This is truly a wonderful DVD.
The A.M practice is done by Rodney Yee...the guy on the cover. The P.M one is done by Patricia Walden. The music is very good and I've found myself leaving the disk in the player turned on and letting it loop as I get ready for bed. Both instructors are a joy to watch and have great, soothing voices with no weird stuff. They don't get into a lot of mystical conversation and they don't have funny ways of pronouncing words. Yee is on a beach in Hawaii and Walden is in the desert, so the scenery is very relaxing, too.
What I like is that the practices are really part meditative as well as the physical stretching. Julie and I did a meditation CD while I was there and I found it to be very relaxing (although we had a hard time not cracking up at the way the guy said the word "warm"). But you'd have to carve out time to do the yoga and then time to do the meditation. This DVD pretty much wraps it all together and you can get done in 20 minutes.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Pulling the Plug
The other day I received copies of Mom and Dad's wills in the mail. I was talking to Mom on the phone and I had asked her if Dad happened to mention that I was hoping to get 2 of her 10 wineglasses that she brought back from Germany. She said he'd mentioned it, but that she didn't want to part with any of them.
"You can't take them with you, you know...," I said.
"I know. But I want them for as long as I'm around," she replied.
I told her I would be too old to taste wine by the time she kicks the bucket at 110. She said she didn't care.
So later in the conversation I said that the wills had arrived.
"No living wills?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"I wish you had done those," I told her. "I won't have trouble with the other two when you are cold and dead in the ground, but I'll have to work hard getting them to let me pull the plug."
She agreed that they should do those.
"I'll be rushing to get that plug pulled, you know," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
"SO I CAN GET THE WINE GLASSES!" I told her.
"You can't take them with you, you know...," I said.
"I know. But I want them for as long as I'm around," she replied.
I told her I would be too old to taste wine by the time she kicks the bucket at 110. She said she didn't care.
So later in the conversation I said that the wills had arrived.
"No living wills?" I asked.
"No," she said.
"I wish you had done those," I told her. "I won't have trouble with the other two when you are cold and dead in the ground, but I'll have to work hard getting them to let me pull the plug."
She agreed that they should do those.
"I'll be rushing to get that plug pulled, you know," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
"SO I CAN GET THE WINE GLASSES!" I told her.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
My New Fun Thing-Yoga
While I was visiting my friend Julie, we tried out a couple of yoga DVDs. We'd talked about it before I came...plotting to attend a class or two during my visit. But we weren't able to find a class that fit in with our schedule. What does that tell you? We didn't have a schedule! The yoga options in Rochester, Minnesota are kind of limited.
Anyway, after we had supper Friday night, Julie remembered that she'd not checked the mail. When she opened the front door, she found a gift from some one of her husband's coworkers...a yoga DVD called "Candelight Yoga." What great timing!
So, despite our having full stomachs and at least one glass of wine already, we trooped down the family room to give the DVD a go.
It was EXCELLENT! I've ordered my own copy from Barnes & Noble now.
I've only done yoga a couple of times. There is a small class that meets here in Indian Land at our Boy Scout hut on Mondays at 3:30. But that time does not work really well for me. And I kind of hated to get all excited about it because it only meets once a week. The class was quite hard, too, as it's an hour long and some of the stretches are held for very long periods of time, which tended to make me sore at the end.
This practice is 43 minutes long. I'll use it for days when I don't go to Jazzercise as a "long practice." It was easy to follow and the instructor is not annoying. She's in a class so you can see other students, some of whom are doing slight variations based upon their abilities. There is also a short "energizing" practice that I liked, too.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
MP3 Challenged
I think God doesn't want me to have an MP3 player. Well, I'm actually pretty sure God doesn't care. But he's sure not waving any magic dust that allows me to overcome MP3 obstacles.
It all began with Napster. Have I mentioned that I love Napster? Oh yeah! Here (ignore the menopause drivel), and here and here...it goes on and on.
So Napster? I'm happy with. The $50 MP3 player I bought when I joined? Not so much. I've actually burned through 2 of them now. After a month or so of enjoying them, they tend to freeze up or go blank. Napster has cheerfully replaced the first one and they say they are cheerfully replacing the second one, although it hasn't shown up since my conversation with the Napster person on January 9.
But it gets worse. I appear to have burned out my son Taylor's IAudio player, too. It's certainly not a big deal to him...it was not compatible with Napster and so we'd bought him a new player for Christmas.
I was planning my trip to Minnesota and thought I should carry along some tunes. For the plane, you know. Or those middle-of-the-night stints of wakefulness. It took the better part of a day to go through our CD collection, load the music onto the guy's computer and convert them to MP3 files, meticulously naming all the songs (for some reason the track names would not convert). I had this little 1 MB player completely full of great music. Everything from Trace Adkins to R. Carlos Nakai, Go Fish to Adie. I was excited.
I used it for the flight to Minnesota. Put it away. The battery was low. I plugged it into my friend Julie's computer to charge it back up and it froze.
On.
The screen was lit, a song was listed (K T Tunstall: "Another Place to Fall"), and it just stopped. No navigating, no nothing.
Just a few minutes ago, as I started to write this missive, I decided to try plugging it back into the guy's computer, now that I'm back home. The software for it is on there. Maybe it will just come back. I doubt it.
But usually I'm not the technologically challenged. I can't figure it out.
It all began with Napster. Have I mentioned that I love Napster? Oh yeah! Here (ignore the menopause drivel), and here and here...it goes on and on.
So Napster? I'm happy with. The $50 MP3 player I bought when I joined? Not so much. I've actually burned through 2 of them now. After a month or so of enjoying them, they tend to freeze up or go blank. Napster has cheerfully replaced the first one and they say they are cheerfully replacing the second one, although it hasn't shown up since my conversation with the Napster person on January 9.
But it gets worse. I appear to have burned out my son Taylor's IAudio player, too. It's certainly not a big deal to him...it was not compatible with Napster and so we'd bought him a new player for Christmas.
I was planning my trip to Minnesota and thought I should carry along some tunes. For the plane, you know. Or those middle-of-the-night stints of wakefulness. It took the better part of a day to go through our CD collection, load the music onto the guy's computer and convert them to MP3 files, meticulously naming all the songs (for some reason the track names would not convert). I had this little 1 MB player completely full of great music. Everything from Trace Adkins to R. Carlos Nakai, Go Fish to Adie. I was excited.
I used it for the flight to Minnesota. Put it away. The battery was low. I plugged it into my friend Julie's computer to charge it back up and it froze.
On.
The screen was lit, a song was listed (K T Tunstall: "Another Place to Fall"), and it just stopped. No navigating, no nothing.
Just a few minutes ago, as I started to write this missive, I decided to try plugging it back into the guy's computer, now that I'm back home. The software for it is on there. Maybe it will just come back. I doubt it.
But usually I'm not the technologically challenged. I can't figure it out.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Somewhat Clueless at Times
I'm ashamed to admit how long it sometimes takes for me to notice things.
Today for the first time I noticed that the Harris Teeter grocery carts have these cool wire rings soldered on them for coffee cups. I noticed it today because I considered buying a cup of coffee at Target and decided not to because it would be too hard to navigate my grocery cart with one hand.
Duh.
But there are times when I realize others can be as goofy as I. Like when I send a text message to multiple recipients about mormons and later realize they thought I said "morons!" I'm still chuckling over that one.
Today I'm making Mardi Gras King Cake and a pressure cooker Chicken Gumbo for a food story I'm writing this weekend. I'm going to encourage people to have a Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday party. I'll post photos and recipes later.
Today for the first time I noticed that the Harris Teeter grocery carts have these cool wire rings soldered on them for coffee cups. I noticed it today because I considered buying a cup of coffee at Target and decided not to because it would be too hard to navigate my grocery cart with one hand.
Duh.
But there are times when I realize others can be as goofy as I. Like when I send a text message to multiple recipients about mormons and later realize they thought I said "morons!" I'm still chuckling over that one.
Today I'm making Mardi Gras King Cake and a pressure cooker Chicken Gumbo for a food story I'm writing this weekend. I'm going to encourage people to have a Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday party. I'll post photos and recipes later.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Just How Cold Was It?
So. I'm back home now and it's much more reasonable here, temperature-wise. My smarty-pants friend Julie said to me today in an email:
"It is still flippin’ cold here. Below zero again. Do you want to know how much below? Ha."
This got to be a bit of a joke with us. I basically froze my toes from the time I landed there until I landed in Atlanta on the way home. I tried not to complain too much, but these things have a tendency to just slip out! So of course Julie was concerned the entire time. She wanted me to be comfortable. Offered me a robe. Offered me socks. Built nice fires in the fireplace for me to roast my feet.
And yet, for all that concern, she somehow felt compelled to ANNOUNCE THE TEMPERATURE every time it occurred to her!
"It's -4."
"really?"
[time goes by]
"It's -9."
"hmm..."
When someone is so cold that it's pretty much more than 50% of what they think about, it's not really that wise to keep reminding them exactly how cold it is.
"It is still flippin’ cold here. Below zero again. Do you want to know how much below? Ha."
This got to be a bit of a joke with us. I basically froze my toes from the time I landed there until I landed in Atlanta on the way home. I tried not to complain too much, but these things have a tendency to just slip out! So of course Julie was concerned the entire time. She wanted me to be comfortable. Offered me a robe. Offered me socks. Built nice fires in the fireplace for me to roast my feet.
And yet, for all that concern, she somehow felt compelled to ANNOUNCE THE TEMPERATURE every time it occurred to her!
"It's -4."
"really?"
[time goes by]
"It's -9."
"hmm..."
When someone is so cold that it's pretty much more than 50% of what they think about, it's not really that wise to keep reminding them exactly how cold it is.
Monday, February 05, 2007
I'm Baaaack! (maybe)
Well, my other blog is pretty much dead. I poured a cup of coffee into my laptop (of course it was by accident, silly!) and now I am unable to update my "Gone to Carolina" blog.
I thought about giving up blogging altogether, but I seem to be missing the writing exercise.
I'm still not sure that this is where I'll land, but at least it's somewhere for me to write my thoughts and adventures until I decide what to do.
This blog, "No Food Left Behind," is titled after my food column that I do perodically for our weekly newspaper. My intention with this blog originally was that it would just be photos and recipes. But I'd gotten hopelessly behind on that since July, too, so it's been just lying dormant for half a year.
Today I am writing from Rochester, Minnesota, where I am visiting my friend Julie. We have been hanging out in the subzero temps since Friday morning, mostly consuming wine and sitting in front of the fireplace. But also we've eaten out a couple of times, cooked together at home, and done some yoga and pilates. Right now I'm waiting for my friend Lis to hit town. She's coming down from the Twin Cities to spend the day and night with us before taking me back up with her to drop me at my sister's.
It's -10 here. The first email of the day was from my friend Don, who informed me that highs at home on Wednesday will be in the 60s. My response?
"Shaddup!"
I thought about giving up blogging altogether, but I seem to be missing the writing exercise.
I'm still not sure that this is where I'll land, but at least it's somewhere for me to write my thoughts and adventures until I decide what to do.
This blog, "No Food Left Behind," is titled after my food column that I do perodically for our weekly newspaper. My intention with this blog originally was that it would just be photos and recipes. But I'd gotten hopelessly behind on that since July, too, so it's been just lying dormant for half a year.
Today I am writing from Rochester, Minnesota, where I am visiting my friend Julie. We have been hanging out in the subzero temps since Friday morning, mostly consuming wine and sitting in front of the fireplace. But also we've eaten out a couple of times, cooked together at home, and done some yoga and pilates. Right now I'm waiting for my friend Lis to hit town. She's coming down from the Twin Cities to spend the day and night with us before taking me back up with her to drop me at my sister's.
It's -10 here. The first email of the day was from my friend Don, who informed me that highs at home on Wednesday will be in the 60s. My response?
"Shaddup!"
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Peppered Tuna
This is about as quick a meal as you can make. It is, however, a bit tricky to get the fish cooked just right...done all the way through without being overdone.
4 tuna steaks or other firm, meaty steaks, approximately 3/4 inch thick (6-8 oz each)
Coarsely ground black pepper
Kosher salt
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 cup dry red wine
2 tablespoons minced or chopped garlic
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
Juice from 1 orange
Liberally cover the tuna steaks on both sides with pepper and salt, pressing into flesh. In a large, heavy skillet, heat oil over high heat until shimmering. Add tuna steaks and sear for 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Remove tuna from skillet, reduce heat to low, and add wine, garlic, vinegar and orange juice, scraping to loosen browned bits. Cook until mixture is thick and syrupy, 3 to 4 minutes. Return tuna to skillet and cook for 1 to 2 minutes, turning once.
From “The Saltwater Cookbook: Fish and Seafood from Ocean to Table,” by Tim Lauer. 2004 Creative Publishing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)