Musing - Pregnancy

I have never before worked in an office where so many women were pregnant at one time. To add to it all, one of our young HR girls just announced, sans husband, that she is expecting. She is a perky multi-tasker who holds down two jobs and goes to school. Can you hear the brakes screeching on this one?

Thanksgiving With a Twist

Our Thanksgiving was wonderful this year. A little different, but still wonderful--filled with family, friends, and Mimi's birthday. We had the obligatory turkey, sides, extras, and axillary turkey thighs so no one felt pressed to sharpen their elbows over the heaping platter (not enough dark meat?--a crime!). Instead of pumpkin, we opted for an apple pie crafted with a melange of different types of apples; and because of the birthday, we had a "Brownie Bomb" that left the pie to sit ignored until the next day.

What a difference a few months can make in our lives. My youngest was able to come and sit for a visit without the usually racing about town, that usually left him and us unrequited; and my older son had the time to sit for a while and spend some quality time. We had time to watch a crazy FX sitcom, that we all love. I am pleased that their lives appear to be focused now; and although a little hectic, they both have voiced that life is good. I would see more changes and challenges to come, but they are strong enough to weather what may come along.

Mimi stated that she is good for another four years. So, I am resigned that unless her expiration date is imposed upon her, she will be good for her word. Send everyone off with fixings and pantry goodies left me happy knowing that bellies would be full for at least the next week.

The day after, of course, brought a the heaping platter of turkey enchilada Linda. And after that, the house cleared out as if someone had yelled, "Skunk!" Having a day to myself was greatly appreciated, and it will fuel me to make the Christmas onslaught.

We spent yesterday making a run on Lowe's for tile, flooring, and baseboards. What better time to take advantage of a Handyman's downtime? Before Christmas, and before the Winter starts we will have a few more "Honeydoos" completed. Which will leave me more time when the Winter lull comes to escape to the garden. Only six weeks, and roses should arrive! Is this the secret to a happy old age? Planning ahead just to see the roses bloom and the sun rise?

How sweeeeeet it is!

Wood I?

The mountain of wood came today-- two and a half cords. If I was a tree hugger, I would be upset, but I know our new stash came from old trees either long past their productive prime or those that were toppled in a storm one or two years ago. I feel sorry for those who don't understand or can take advantage of a warm toasty fire during the cold months.



Our stove is so efficient that, for the most part, our evening fire heats the whole house and warms the living room up to the point that clothes are an option. Right now, I will count the days to the first fire. Once tempered and warmed up, the fire box really needs little priming unless we miss a night.



Last year, we visited family who had a conventional fire place that spewed smoke and didn't do much but redden our eyes and caused us concern because there was no fire screen. This year we will spend the evenings enveloped in the warmth of home.

To Market, To Market, To Buy.....

I think that tomorrow may be the first day that I will find Quince at the market. Last season I bought only a few that I put in a pear tart, but this year I plan to make enough Membrillo to last a while. The manchego and Iberico hiding in the back of the cold drawer have declared that they won't come out until the fresh rosemary crackers are ready. The blackberry jam that I put up this summer is sans seeds, so the texture has remained that of aspic and gelee. (All have indicted that the absence of the seeds has made digestion a lot less challenging.) The spreadable sweets with the dryness of the cheese coupled with a favorite sparkles almost makes working worth while.

If I saute a few Wolfsen's to go with, I think that I just might coax the sun out just one more time this weekend. What heaven. Tart and sweet, smooth and crisp. Maybe a few raspberries to make everyone smile, and a little Bette Midler and Alan Jackson.

Apples and Carrots and Sugar, Oh My

With the promise of the first storm and in honor of the generosity of my neighbor's annual pilgrimage to Apple Hill, I made an apple cake complete with pecan praline glaze and generous chunks of gala and golden delicious. While I thought the cake would be just a token of Fall, those I shared it (a small six inch round for the neighbors and a four inch square for a co-worker) with said that it replaced a meal--neighbor's dinner and friend's lunch. "I was only going to eat half and save the other for tonight", Jules said. "But, I couldn't help it. I wanted to put my face in it and breathe in the cinnamon and apples." Neighbor polished theirs off with a sauvignon.

Imagine the look on their faces when I showed up at their front door with a carrot cake the same size heaped with cream cheese icing for a birthday surprise. The next day email to work indicated that they were both completely sugared up and swore they would eat a complete meal the next day. Jules heard about the carrot cake and swore that she dreamed I had made one. Another co-worker is returning from Afghanistan, and Jules suggested that I make the stacked double 9x13 carrot cake that I made for his farewell. It took three packages of cream cheese and three cubes of butter. I think his arteries are probably unclogged by now, so it should be safe.

Of Green Peppercorn Chicken and Pee Wee Corn

I have a wonderful bistro-type chicken dish that I make with fennel, crimini mushrooms, onions, garlic, and chicken. I saute the veggies in evoo until just tender, remove from the pan; add more evoo and a few TBLS of bacon fat and brown the chicken that has been dredged in flour and a variety of my favorite spices. I crank up the convection oven to 420. Once the chicken is well browned I add the veggies back, pour in enough good dry white wine, about ten crushed and chopped green peppercorns, top with five freshly cut stems of rosemary, and throw the skillet into the oven.

I normally serve with mashed and fresh green beans, but my dear one has an affection for small cans of kernelled corn--thus named Pee Wee. As in, "Wher'd dis corn come from? Someone check Pee Wee drawer!" I think his love of canned corn has to be resident in his mid-western genes. I can't recall any good use for the stuff, other than to have a can on hand to add texture to cornbread. On the nights I opt for fresh veggies and salad, he is happy with Pee Wee. I guess that's what keeps me coming back for more--could it get any easier?

(More) Home Improvement

The men are coming tomorrow to thoroughly obliterate two bathrooms (as I have known them for 25 years). Should be interesting to see if everything comes together, or if I just sigh, bear the decorating error, and hope a future owner loves it. Doing everything piece meal at least gives me the feeling that I am making progress toward realizing the house finished before I retire or stop work.

I look back on the old days as a child that the bathroom in the rental house we lived in on Alameda street didn't have a window, so it would get all steamed up and my sister would peel the multiple layers of pink enamel paint off the wall. I hated to use the room after her because those were the days of sleeping on 2" round rigid curlers. My hair was baby fine, and no amount of Aqua Net could save me from the droop. As my Mother used to say that if you live with a group of women, the bathroom always smelled of farts and perfume.

Living with a house full of men I learned that it wasn't much different, just that the sweeter side was always under represented, and the bathroom always has this weird odor of onions, rank socks, and farts. Making their rooms safe havens for them was really a cop out on my part. It seems that after the sweet milky sleepy powdery baby smells left their bodies, the damp dog smells that come from busy little boys started.

I wonder what the two of them will think of "their" bathroom? It always seems to be the first place that they head when they hit the front door, normally to leave something (like a puppy still marking its territory). Will the change be a shock to their Pavlovian selves? Maybe I can turn this into a behavior experiment.

I ma guess that the tow little ones will be facinated with the colors and design, and will have lots of questions and comments.

Hope I don't break the mirror into a thousand pieces. The last two years has been bad enough, and another seven just might make me a woman who imbibes on a regular basis.
Hang on kidneys. You thought the "Stones" were fun...........

Home Improvement

I can't believe that I come up with these ideas. I found the Mr. outside in 100 degree weather staring at the flower bed.

What are you doing? (Another 5 minutes out here and I am jumping in the pool).
I think I'll do the rest of the stone border.
Today!?
Yeah.........
How bought you wait till October, besides I would like to do the tile inside sometime before I'm 80.

I went upstairs. Ten minutes later I heard something crash downstairs and the house was shaking.

What are you doing?
Bustin out the tile.

I went down. No cover on the furniture, dust and junk everywhere.

Two week later, I took three days off to clean house, wash drapes, shampoo carpets, and dust.

Tile looks great............................

Daydreams vs. Nightmares

Sometimes life is like a series of slip and falls. The challenge is getting up each time after the last fall. Did the last few years happen; or was it a series of gauzy vignettes that dissipated like puffs of smoke into the prevailing breeze? The purely cognitive me knows that time has passed, and so circumstances and life must have changed. But the wistful me wishes I could awake a little more spry and with less grey hair to muse what the (bright) future will bring.

For right now, it seems that everyone has scattered to their respective corners, licked their wounds, and resumed the fight. Absolutely fascinating...........

Back to the Salt Mines

What a frickindoubletastic time I had not being at work for a few days. The usual blast furnace weather turned mild, and I was able to do things around the humble abode and work on much delayed projects for my family. Nothing, but nothing gets the day going as hearing your husband sledgehammer tile out of a bathroom. Before you know it, maybe in a year or two, I will have cleared away the layer of mastic dust on the horizontal surfaces in the house.

I guess that's the price you pay for marrying a jock--a lot of activity, but not much prior planning. Before you know it, maybe before my youngest graduates from university, I will have new floors. Sounds like two reasons for a party. Anyway, we have the "big one" coming up this weekend and next, so we will grab a little peace and quiet before the storm. Will take an extra large double strength garbage bag this weekend in case Grandma gets out of hand, or gets into a tangle with a local at the park. Thank DOG the dancing festival is over. I can just see her waltzing and tripping her partner with her four-prong cane.

We will enjoying rekindling our relationships with family members, and happy that they are safe and well, and hope that this doesn't happen for another 25 years. Peace and Love. Don't let Uncle ____ pinch your hiney or slip you tongue.

We Be Jammin

I think I am all jammed out. The strawberry, apricot, blackberry, and blueberry are all put up, and it will be a while before quince are ripe. Breakfast the last few days has been cheddar and manchego, and apricot jam on a toasted sour batard. The only thing better would be for me to make brioche. I have enough Mt. Tam, Point Reyes Blue, and pate in the fridge to weather a major storm, but it looks like it's going to be a typical August weekend.

Guess I will just have to tough it out.

Olefactory Reality

I was sitting on the sofa enjoying a little down time. Suddenly, I had the greatest urge to fart. Bllllllllp! "Whew, I thought, that's not going to be nice." Then immediately, "What the hell. Was this the best come-to-Dog realization that I would have in my lifetime? When has a fart been "nice'". I mentioned my realization to my husband. "I guess some are worse than others," he said. "Yeah, but when is a fart ever nice?" I asked. "Get my point? Yours can peel the paint off the wall. They should sell the stuff to the military, and we can bring everyone home from the Middle East!"

With that, we laughed--a lot. Can you imagine if the kids were home? They would be wondering what was so freaking funny, and once they learned it was Bathroom Humor, would probably call up to get us both assessed and signed up for the Old (Farts!) Home.

Later that evening in bed, my husband pre pre-warned me, (he normally says "oh oh"); but this time he said, "This is going to be bad, very bad." "Thanks", I said. "Yeah," he said, "It makes the one this morning almost 'nice'."

I could have slugged him, but I was running to put on the ceiling fan.

Dryer Gremlin

Sometimes life hands you things to deal with, and the experience is like taking things out of the dryer. You swore you didn't turn those pants inside out; but there they are, and you imagine the little dryer gremlin who steals just one sock, tumbling around with your clothes, grabbing at the pants legs, and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Enough of this Life-Is-Like-A-Box-Of-Chocolates crapola. It is never that sweet or sublime. Just about the time that you think you get it all figured out-wham, here comes the inside-out-back-to-front thing complete with bellybutton fuzz. Life is more like the first few stanzas of a Charles Ives composition--just before you can make out the tune--the discord and imblalance makes you just a little bit nuts!

I think that I would like to go a whole week with everyone wearing their clothes just the way they come out of the dryer. The mere act would unpomp the pompous, humble the haughty, and add a touch of human interest to us all.

For example, knowing that (fill in the blank) was wearing his briefs insideout (if he doesn't go commando), might give us all something to smile about.

The Results Are In

It has been a roller-coaster week, but it seems that my efforts are paying off. My tweeting/Facebook girl and I have spent some major time together; and the best news is that, she PASSED! She didn't tell me, but she took my advise. And.... she is getting this whole "why do you say this doesn't make any sense" thing, because she brought the same thing to me that I gave back to her months ago with the comment, "I know you think that I am just being picky, but this just doesn't make any sense". She took a big breath and said, "You know, this just doesn't make any sense now."

Hallelujah, sweet mother of pearl! Pass the truffles and wine. I think that we are making progress! I smiled. Unfortunately, I still really really hate my job. I guess every cloud has a silver lining coupled with a lightning bolt that will smack the crap out of you.

Moving Forward

The young woman waddled to the edge of the pool steps, gingerly felt her way down the stairs, and sat heavily at the edge of the pool. Her advanced "mommyness" showed in her mannerism and careful grace. "Go on in", I said. "The weightlessness will be heaven". "If I go in, I might not come out!" she laughed.

After bobbing around a while in the pool, dodging laughing and splashing children, she resigned herself to getting out and pulled herself up the stairs to her waiting husband. He swaddled her in a beach towel and gently kissed her nose.

Talking to her later, I was eager to ask, "I thought you didn't want children. I thought you said that you had so many things that you wanted to do before you even thought about them." She turned to me, smiled, and with all the wisdom that comes to reckoning with what means the most said, "I realized that without my own children in my life, all I will ever be is my parent's child. I want to be so much more during my life. I can have a 'career' later, but love and children can't wait."

Looking aroung the garden and seeing my own husband, sons, and grandsons, I understood.

Wooops!

How long after your dog goes to Doggie Heaven does it take for you to realize that the little munchkin is not there to clean up the occasional food mishap. We always exclaimed, "Whoops!", every time we dropped a morsel on the floor to let the dog know there was a tidbit there for her. I am still "Woopsing", but have to go back and clean up the mess. The first week after Tip's flight, the kitchen floor looked like hell, and the squirrels thought that I had come around to the idea of artificially feeding wild animals.

Get it may take a while. I found one of her toys in my by-the-back-door-garden-crap-I-won't-leave-out-in-case-a-great-big-spider-takes-up-residence-and-tries-to-attack-me basket.

Anyway, I can see why dogs were so handy during the Dark ages.

Summmmmmertime Bounty

It seems that the last few weekends have culminated with family, friends, food, and great times. This next weekend will bring a reunion with one side of the family, while a gathering at the end of next month will bring us together with the other side. This weekend will also herald another pool party for the "babies". Is it Kosher to still call them that? I'm not sure. They are definitely old enough to admonish me for my temporary lapses into the world of the expletive: but seem forgiving and entertained enough not to rat me out to their Papa. I can usually ransom my way out of trouble with a "bawoon" from Papa's office or jelly bean from the candy dish. Looking into their impish faces and twinkling eyes, I see resemblances of both my sons and a glimps of the future.

I look upon all the events as a time to touch base, and spend precious moments, with both sons and family and extended family. Although one of the reunions has been motivated by severe illness, we will take the time to celebrate the fact that those of us that are there, can eat, drink, and laugh together, even though the future may not be very bright.

Stand aside, I have side dishes and dessert to prepare! I feel caprese and chocolate coming on........

Lactose and the Quirky

I have an affinity for lovely cheeses, and was thoroughly in my element in England. My bi-weekly trips to Cambridge were made to visit the cheese monger to ensure that the fridge always had a ration of Stilton, Leicester, Edam, Brie, and "hard" cheese. Now that the U.S. has finally caught up it's a pleasure to go to our farmers market and find quark, Portuguese Dry Jack, Cheddars and other delights, in additon to fruits and veggies.

Having recently raided the sausage factory, my lunches currently consist of bits and pieces--bread or crackers, sausage, cheese, fruit, and alas, soda (not wine!). Others I work with think I'm just too frugal to buy a sandwich or burger. Some even think I'm quirky. Tomorrow, lunch will be ledt over Caprese, sausage, french bread, and iced tea. A sweet Pluot and (golf course) blackberries will round out the meal.

So sorry for the Quiznos and Carls set. Eat your heart out!

Furlough Foolishness

This furlough this is making less and less sense to me. It appears to me that there is no true budgetary savings, and the loss of work time and the stress that it puts on our already burdened State services and human capital has yet to be included in the calculated "savings".

Here's what just doesn't comput. I have to take three days off without pay--a little less than 15% of my pay. With the time that I have worked, and with the special program I am in, I earn two days off a month that are vested and are mine until I either use them or retire and cash them out (in some form or other). I usually try to take the days off, just to stay even; but with the advent of the furlough, I am not taking my days off. So here's what's happening:

My pay is reduced which naturally reduces my taxable gross, therefore I pay less in State and Federal taxes (and I pay a lot of taxes) and social security. I am banking the leave days that I would normally take off, thereby increasing a State liability of difference between the one day of leave that I am not taking less the taxes that I am not paying.

On my days off, I use it for going to the doctor and using the other services that are provided as a part of my employment. Normally, I wouldn't use the services, but because I have the spare time now, I use the services--therefore increasing medical plan and other costs. I spend less because I have less money, therefore decreasing sales revenue. Let's face it, staying home and reading a book or working in the garden cheap.

What I am doing is universal throughout the State. So tell me, how is this saving?

Squirrely

This morning around 2:30, the resident squirrels (or rats—no problem, there is no difference) put up such a ruckus in our palm tree. Two were chattering loud enough to make even the noisy neighbors take notice, and it was easy to tell that it was definitely an animal discussion—squirrels aren’t nocturnal. Later in the morning, when we were both fully awake, we discussed what might have happened. My husband said that the male squirrel probably came home too late and the lady squirrel found an unidentifiable and strange grey hair.

I thought that the male woke up, and being a little frisky, wanted some midnight lovin’. I thought that the lady squirrel was probably saying, “What a squirrely thing to ask! Are you nuts? You’re an animal! Knock it off, or you are soooooo out of this tree.” My husband added that maybe the squirrel had lipstick on its tail. I told my husband not to get any bright ideas, and it probably wasn’t the squirrel’s birthday…..

Anyway, all was quiet at 6:00 a.m. I’ll keep and eye out for other foolishness, too.

Independence Day

This morning with the dawn of the 4th, I heard a thump on our large front windows. "I think they are leaving today", I said to my husband, knowing that this would probably be the day all along. I peeked out the upper window--only one baby and Mama peering back.

Now, one is stuck on the lower roof, probably thinking, "Oh, hell, what did I do now". From roof to brick ledge to grass and back again, testing, and trying. It may take the other one and hour or a day to get up courage, but it will go. So, again we are empty-nesters.

Having a Bang Up Good Time

In the last few weeks, I have seen more of my son's and grandson's that even I thought was possible. We have celebrated Father's day, my youngest son's birthday, and now tomorrow, the 4th. The one thing I have been able to see is that they have become wonderful men that bring me a great deal of joy and laughter. My older son is making his way quite nicely, working extremely hard, and showing the same signs of father and husbandness that makes for a life of satisfaction and joy.

My younger son has gone through a period of personal turmoil, and is in the process of re-discovering the person, with the same hopes, dreams, ambitions, and self-confidence, that he was in the past. He has worked so very hard to balance life, school, and work, in the last few years, that it is hard to believe that he is yet to really strike out on this adventure call, "life". I know with the direction that he chooses, whatever it is, he will do well, because a see a calmness that balance and resolution can bring.

The next year for all of us will be a challenge, but together, we can all pull through. Happy 4th!

Dog Gone, doggonit!

Last month, we lost our dear Tipper. On June 1st, at the age of 15 1/2 she went to puppy heaven to join our other dog, Tassie. If you had told me before it happened, that over a period of twenty-five years we would have had only two dogs, I would had thought you were silly. Farm dogs, after all, and larger breeds, (the only kind of dog I was familiar with), don't live longs lives. So, the fact that both these two girls managed to stick with us for 15+ years (each) is a mystery to me. When we told the neighbors about our loss, one of them commented that knowing how everyone in our house gets the royal treatment, he wouldn't have minded being our dog for 15 years!

Anyway, the dog is gone; and on various occasions, I actually slip and think that I hear her tags jingle, or glimpse a sight of doggie movement out of my side vision. Would you call that doglucination, or flat out canine separation complex? Why does it seem that everywhere we turn, someone has the cutest damn dog you ever saw? Is this the way that man, humans ended up with pets in the first place?

It will be a while before we go there again...opening our hearts up to a pet that can so utterly consume our love; but when we do, we probably won't see it coming!

I don't get it...........

Now you know I’m not a quitter
But it seems you’re all a twitter
Any you’ve morphed into a social butterfly.

Is a girl suppose to rue
When it seems that all you do
Is flaunt, and gush, and maybe make a sigh?

With your heart upon your sleeve
It appears to be a sieve
And your motives have been looking sort of thin.

As you stretch the one last link
I can see you just don’t think
That it matters any more to show you care.

Time to settle down and ponder
If tomorrow you will wonder
Of the things you might have done that now are past.

But for now, you’ll have to twitter
When it seems to me the quitter
Doesn’t understand the gift has all but gone.

Duhs Are Back

She's back this summer, only higher up under the eaves where the jays can fret her and the babies. Two broods so far. The last are ready to fledg. One more brood and we will need, "Bird Control" pills.

How DOES Your Garden Grow?

It has been one heck of a Spring, in more ways than one: but have the time to just sit nad let the world go by has been a treasure, albeit, a life saver. Although I thought that I would be a home body by now, the economy and life threw me a few nasty curves and left me to fend for myself in the world of the working. A DOG, to ram home a point, made the weather last few months almost unsurpassable in temperate and seasonability. Throwing me a bone, DOG gave me a change to get a jump on all the planting and digging that I didn't have time for last fall, and showed me an abundance of color and grace.



As I have lamented on a regular basis for the last few months, that all I want to do is go home to my garden, my co-workers did not understand until I brought in an armful of English roses, and saved a picture to my computer desktop. The picture is my chant, my ommmmmmmmm that keeps me from crawling under my desk and refusing to come out.



The late evenings that I spend outside remind me of the endless hours that my sister and I spent outside playing, refusing to come in; and the many hours that we spent sitting up in bed backwards, leaning against our headboards, and gazing out the windows into the late dusk of the summer evenings, Whistfully listening to the other children still outside playing.