Month: April 2011

Birther Business

Actress Cloris Leachman is 85. I know this because my morning paper has a column called Birthdays. The format never changes. There are always five people featured. First there is a descriptor, then the name followed by age. Actor Willie Nelson is 78. They are in descending order by age. Director Jane Campion is 57. One lucky duck is featured in a thumbnail photo. This time it is Cloris. Actress Kirsten Dunst is 29. I seldom know the last person on the list, today is no exception. Actress Dianna Agron is 25

It would seem any self-respecting editor would have nixed this column idea a long time ago. It’s not like readers all of a sudden jump up and run out to buy birthday cards. But I guess someone thinks it’s pretty important to know Cloris Leachman is 85 today.

Insider’s tip

I ate at IHOP this morning. I wanted a couple of poached eggs and did not want to make them myself.  When I walked in,  I saw that Eggs Benedict with hash browns and sausage was the blackboard special.

Maybe IHOP has changed up their menu? I never think of it as a breakfast destination for a gourmand. I need not have wondered.  Restaurants may come and go, but IHOP holds fast to a bottomless coffee pot and huge portions.

I ignore the parade of pancake stacks topped with syrupy blue or red fruit filling crowned with a huge wave of whipped cream, and order the Two Egg Quickie.

The eggs are perfectly poached and paired with my choice of meat and toast.

The waitress told me I had made a great choice, she “loves the poached eggs here.” When I left she said, “Have a good day. Kid. Stay out of trouble.”

Attitude of Gratitude

Every so often it makes sense to whip up a list of things that fill me with a sense of gratitude. These are on the top of today’s list.

1) I am glad my dentist is not Dr. Orly Taitz, the queen of the birthers who lives in a meaningless and irrational world totally of her own making.

2) I am grateful that it wasn’t at all hip to get a tattoo when I was in my teens.

Oh. William and Kate. Nearly life-size. That's something.

3) I am happy that no one I know is selling Tupperware at home parties any more.

4) I am very grateful that someone else dug up the garden and all I need to do is figure out what to plant.

5) I’m so pleased that my wallet was on the floor of my car rather than left on the counter at Starbucks.

6) And – I’m thankful that I will never have to call Goodwill to haul away a commemorative refrigerator.

Oops

A friend e-mailed me on the fly to let me know, if I didn’t already, that a mutual acquaintance had died.

That’s awful, I thought.  The three of us had worked on a number of projects over the years and we had a healthy friendship. The last time I had seen her, she was as enthusiastic and energetic as ever.

Goes to show you, I thought glumly as I pulled up the obituary online.

I read through the first paragraph and stopped and started again. The name was right.  And yes, our friend’s husband had already died but I was pretty sure his name was George, not Henry.  And she did have children but not Jack and Harry; she had 2 daughters, Lucille and Darlene.

Wellll – it wasn’t who we thought it was. I scrolled down and saw a very nice note; it was from the friend who had e-mailed.

She offered sympathy to the family and then reminisced about the deceased. She mentioned her generosity, her kindness and how flat-out hilarious she was when she entertained troops dressed as Chucky Chipmunk. She went on to say something about her never being forgotten by all the hundreds she had dazzled over the years.

I couldn’t help but think the deceased was laughing her head off, I sure was.

Thanks, Phoebe

It’s a Sunday twilight in a coming-together apartment in the middle of a middle-of-the-road town. Two young women are sitting at an oak dining room table drinking gin and orange juice ladled from a pink plastic bowl sitting between them.

“Ok, ok –let’s try it again,” one says to the other. “We almost had it nailed that time.”

“Yeah, we’re close, really terribly, terribly close,” her friend answers while reaching over and flipping on the repeat button.

The two sing along all the way to the end. “Let’s do it just one more time…”

Man Up, Bug

Way to go Volkswagen.

2002 Beetle

All this hoo-rah-rah about the new generation Beetle is not going down all that well in some quarters. My 2002 Beetle, for instance, is building a steady head of steam with all the talk about more sporty, more dynamic and more masculine.

“Oh, yeah” –the conversation goes at a stoplight when abreast another Bug, “so who CARES about a lower profile, a longer hood and a steeper windshield?”

2012 New Beetle

“Ha, they think that’s a big fat difference?”

“Right,” spits the other car.  “And engine-smidgen, I’m already turbo-charged. Let me at ’em on a straight away! And what’s this about a Spoiler? Any Junker can have a spoiii–leer. I can hardly believe my own ears.”

“More Power, less Flower, my tail-pipe!” my car grumbles loudly as the light turns green.

“See you around,” the other car yells turning left into the intersection. “By the way, love the daisy on your dash.” “Thanks,” my car smiles cheerfully as we drive straight ahead. “I got it at Costco, a great place for flowers.”

Easter Twenty-Eleven

There are thousands of great renditions of Peter Rabbit and his kin!

Here’s one that could be one of my favorites — Rory, an 11 x 14 print for $35.00 from HamjArt located in the Canary Islands near Spain.

I found it on Etsy, the global all-things craft site. Narrow your search — otherwise you will be over-whelmed and give up before you find what you want. I used rabbit paintings.

Hey, have a good hare day.

Hope Springs a Turtle

Last year, I didn’t get around to putting in a garden. Oh, you know –this and that caught up with me. And before I knew it my carefully plotted out garden was over-run and out of control.

I am not going to let that happen this year. I hired someone to clean it out early this week.  Here it is (from the window of the upstairs spare bedroom) after the clean-up; today it was warm and dry enough to get the soil ready so I’m now ready to plant.

I’m planning a combo of vegetables, herbs and flowers. Mostly I want to see if I can get some really good vine ripe tomatoes.  And I want to look out the window at sturdy little marigolds, cheerful cosmos and hardy moss rose. I want to cut cilantro for tacos and make basil pesto.

Let someone else take care of Versailles.

Earth Day

I ended up with my mother’s cast iron skillet. It’s in the garage right now; it needs to be cleaned up and seasoned. Maybe I’ll do that in honor of Earth day. And then I might make wilted lettuce ’cause it’s so earthy.

I stumbled across a recipe for it in a book about growing up on an Iowa farm during the Depression, called Little Heathens.  Mildred Kalish came from a time and place where every meal was equal measure of labor and love.

Pick, wash and dry a large bowl of leaf lettuce. Fry about 8 slices of bacon in an iron skillet until crisp and brown. Crumble over lettuce.

Pour all but 3 tablespoons of fat from the pan. Add 1/2 cup water, four chopped green onions, 1 TB sugar and 3 TBS apple cider vinegar. Bring mixture to a boil while scraping brown bits from bottom of skillet.

Pour the mixture over the bacon and lettuce which will wilt the lettuce. Stir and serve immediately with some good bread.

Mildred’s family aren’t the only ones with a soft spot for wilted lettuce: I found 174,000 entries when I searched recipes. Though I didn’t read every one of them — it looks like there are only a few variations to the bacon, vinegar, boiling-mixture-over-lettuce-formula.

I did bookmark a blog so I can find my way back to it. It’s called Mixed Greens, lots of really good photographs, and ideas/recipes for taking advantage of local and seasonal food. Happy Earth Day.

Zoku

I CONFESS,  I bought a small electric appliance that only does One thing on the very eve of Earth Day. So crucify me.

(Oh, c’mon — just kiddin’.) 

It came today via Big Brown.

It’s a Zoku pop maker, and yes,  I do plan to “explore an entire world of delicious frosty treats that will magically freeze before my eyes.”

The Zoku is filled with the same kind of liquid found in ice cream makers. Freeze the base, insert popsicle sticks , pour in the ingredients and wait for a short time for a freeze.  

Use some kind of sweet liquid, juice-based, kool-aid or what-have-you,  add some fruit and you’re done. Look at these results. It’s this picture that convinced me that I had to have it. 

I do admit– it doesn’t make a lot, three at a time, so it’s best to plan ahead so you have enough.   

I plan to experiment. I plan to make this a very well used appliance. Maybe even  a Zoku blog. Let me know if you buy one — we’ll chat about it.