Rarely do I write this blog in the daylight hours. Writing seems more like a night-time thing to me, or perhaps, if I was a real writer, in the pre-dawn hours. (It's obvious that I am not a real writer because I have NEVER wanted to get out of bed before dawn to write. Ever.) But here I sit, at 10:00 in the morning, blogging away like I do it every day!
Of the three people who read this on a semi-regular basis, one is my friend Margaret who chastises me (nicely) when it has been too long since I produced a blog post. It is because of Margaret that I am writing at this moment, while the sun is shining and the air is heating up and my stomach growls for breakfast. Part of me wants another cup of coffee, the other (larger) part wants someone else to make it for me along with a toasted english muffin with a smear of peanut butter on it. Breakfast of champions. But my stomach will need to growl some more before that happens.
As is everyone else in our current situation, I am both tired of this lock-down and grateful for it. There's nothing more to say about it than that.
Currently I am totally enjoying watching "Mad Men" on Netflix. For some unknowable reason, I never watched it when it began in 2007. But it is so good and so addictive! Everything about it, from the stellar acting (and over-acting), the costumes, the sets, the portrayal of that 1960-1970 era, all of it is fascinating to watch. Social, economic, political issues of that decade are dealt with, the advertising business is dissected like a lab rat and the outcome isn't very pretty. The characters are flawed and often proud of those flaws. I could go on and on but if you haven't seen it, you better start watching soon. In two weeks from today it will be gone from Netflix forever.
Reading: fun,junky books (Robert Crais' Elvis Cole Private Detective series), old school books (Agatha Christie), memoirs ("Untamed" by Glennon Doyle , "The Sun is a Compass" by Caroline Van Hemert), poetry (Billy Collins), pseudo-science fiction ("The Sparrow" by Mary Doria Russell), books off my shelf (Laurie Colwin again, Anne Lamott, Kate Atkinson) and books I have been slowly reading for some time ("Sapiens" by Yuval Noah Harai) ...... I am reading everything. There was a little time, about three weeks ago, where my attention span faltered and I couldn't read for more than 15 minutes at a time. But my reading rhythm has returned, thankfully. Especially this week, when it is so bloody hot outside (close to 100 degrees yesterday), there isn't anything to do but read. Too hot to sit outside, too hot to walk the dog past noon. Friends have sent me books, dropped books off on my doorstep and I have learned to download books from the library to my phone.
Baking: for the first six weeks of the Don't Leave the House order I baked. A lot. Like every day. Bread, cookies, pies, cakes, crackers. Over and over, rinse and repeat. I would give the results away to anyone close by or drop them off at friends and acquaintances homes, but one cannot bake without tasting the product, of course. Sadly I realized I needed to stop baking for a few weeks and eat things that did not have flour and sugar in them. Things like fruits and vegetables! Baking will return, but not for another couple of weeks.
Drinking: along with the baking, I was totally happy to make new, experimental cocktails and eagerly consume them. I didn't overdo it, but like the baking, too many calories get consumed. I have tapered that off for the next couple of weeks as well, limiting myself to one liquid libation a day. Sad, yes, but better for my liver in the long run. And who knows how long that run will be? Certainly not a marathon length. More like a 10K run. Doable, good for the soul and body but not that strenuous.
That's the rundown for now. Hope everyone is trying to be safe and happy. Be careful out there.
.
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
Monday, May 18, 2020
Traveling again, I'm ready.
Why is it that when you can't do something, it's all you want to do? Right now all I think about is taking a road trip to the Eastern Sierras, to Bishop, Tom's Place, Lone Pine, Convict Lake and the list goes on and on. But no. Not now. Get those thoughts out of my head!
For years my friend Tom and I traveled as much as we could. The Tuesday after Thanksgiving we would fly to Europe for two weeks. Around January 15 we would do it again. Some of our journeys were pre-Euro and the value of the dollar was very high so the expenses were quite reasonable. (A lovely hotel in Paris was around $40.00 US.) After a few years of double trips to Europe we cut it down to one, but we usually went someplace else after our Europe excursion: Michigan, Wisconsin, Death Valley, New York, Montreal, Chicago..... we traveled! Counting small countries like Vatican City (its own country) and San Marino (nestled in Italy) and Andorra (between France and Spain) I can truthfully report that I have stepped foot in over 20 countries. One of those was just an airport stop but all the rest were at least an overnight, (with the exception of the three minuscule countries mentioned above, those were a drive-through) and most were more than one night.
And most of them were with Tom.
My mind is flooded with images right now. The tiny island of Lipari, off the coast of Sicily, the gorgeous Azores Islands off the coast of Portugal, the long train ride from Vienna to Venice that ended with both of miserably sick in Venice, fevers, hallucinations, mysterious disease. So many meals in Italy, many in tiny places with no English spoken, one in Sienna that was memorable: snow falling outside, a cinghiale ragu, an incredible bottle of red wine. The best bolognese in Bologna, lamb tagine in Tunis. Getting drunk on a night train from Paris to Bologna, sitting in so many windows of hotels drinking red wine. Driving through fields of lavender in the south of France, dealing with frozen windshield wipers on the way to Rothenburg, Germany, driving in a blizzard in the south of Italy, unable to see the road, snow blind, hands gripping the wheel. Seeing fireflies for the first time at the age of 40 something after a Friday night fish fry in Wisconsin. In Istanbul, the call to prayer, the sanctity of the mosques, the best oranges I have ever eaten bought from a street vendor. On my own, dodging scooters in Vietnam and eating pho for the first time in a local Hanoi cafe. Crossing the bridges in Lyon, sitting in outdoor French cafes, staring out so many windows at so many cityscapes.
It will be a while before I get on an airplane again but as soon as we get a green light, I will be in my car driving. I want to feel that hot Eastern Sierra wind in my face this summer, smell the heat of the sage in the desert. To see new places and revisit the old ones. I'm ready.
.
For years my friend Tom and I traveled as much as we could. The Tuesday after Thanksgiving we would fly to Europe for two weeks. Around January 15 we would do it again. Some of our journeys were pre-Euro and the value of the dollar was very high so the expenses were quite reasonable. (A lovely hotel in Paris was around $40.00 US.) After a few years of double trips to Europe we cut it down to one, but we usually went someplace else after our Europe excursion: Michigan, Wisconsin, Death Valley, New York, Montreal, Chicago..... we traveled! Counting small countries like Vatican City (its own country) and San Marino (nestled in Italy) and Andorra (between France and Spain) I can truthfully report that I have stepped foot in over 20 countries. One of those was just an airport stop but all the rest were at least an overnight, (with the exception of the three minuscule countries mentioned above, those were a drive-through) and most were more than one night.
And most of them were with Tom.
My mind is flooded with images right now. The tiny island of Lipari, off the coast of Sicily, the gorgeous Azores Islands off the coast of Portugal, the long train ride from Vienna to Venice that ended with both of miserably sick in Venice, fevers, hallucinations, mysterious disease. So many meals in Italy, many in tiny places with no English spoken, one in Sienna that was memorable: snow falling outside, a cinghiale ragu, an incredible bottle of red wine. The best bolognese in Bologna, lamb tagine in Tunis. Getting drunk on a night train from Paris to Bologna, sitting in so many windows of hotels drinking red wine. Driving through fields of lavender in the south of France, dealing with frozen windshield wipers on the way to Rothenburg, Germany, driving in a blizzard in the south of Italy, unable to see the road, snow blind, hands gripping the wheel. Seeing fireflies for the first time at the age of 40 something after a Friday night fish fry in Wisconsin. In Istanbul, the call to prayer, the sanctity of the mosques, the best oranges I have ever eaten bought from a street vendor. On my own, dodging scooters in Vietnam and eating pho for the first time in a local Hanoi cafe. Crossing the bridges in Lyon, sitting in outdoor French cafes, staring out so many windows at so many cityscapes.
It will be a while before I get on an airplane again but as soon as we get a green light, I will be in my car driving. I want to feel that hot Eastern Sierra wind in my face this summer, smell the heat of the sage in the desert. To see new places and revisit the old ones. I'm ready.
.
Sunday, May 10, 2020
America, no longer the King of the World
This editorial is profound. Read it.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/08/opinion/coronavirus-trump.html?searchResultPosition=1
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/08/opinion/coronavirus-trump.html?searchResultPosition=1
Things lost and things found in this isolation
So much has already been written about how we are all coping in our sheltering places. Articles about parents working from home while trying to be educators to their children. Articles about elderly folks (older than me!) feeling alone and afraid, articles about everyone, everywhere, feeling everything. The New York Times yesterday had an article about what New Yorkers miss about their city, what they took for granted and now cannot have, everything from hot dog stands to grandchildren.
Therefore, I am jumping in with my little article on what I miss, how I feel as a single person living basically in one room, things that are giving me small moments of joy. It's all about me.....
I miss the ability to be spontaneous, to hop in the car and go to the library, to run to the market for a forgotten ingredient, to meet a friend for coffee. Now that we can't go anywhere, road trips are on my mind all the time. Even driving to the ocean seems like a big deal, but the ocean is now closed to all of us because of idiots who crowded there at the beginning of this situation and ruined it for so many. I actually miss going to the laundromat to do several loads of laundry at one time. Now it is one load at a time, one load a week, usually at my daughter's house and I am incredibly grateful for that. There's nothing like a drawer full of clean underwear to make you feel wealthy!
I had a dentist appointment scheduled for April, which obviously didn't happen. Most people hate going to the dentist. I like going, it makes me feel not just responsibly adult-like, but my teeth are somewhat fragile and seeing the hygienists and the doc a couple of times a year reassures me that dentures might not be a necessity. I want my teeth to last as long as I do and thus I miss getting the "OK, good for another six months" validation.
Everything is couched in anxiety now: even pressing the buttons on the gas pump makes you wonder if the last person who touched them had the virus. Going to the grocery store isn't easy, breathing through a mask, avoiding everyone else in the building, it's no longer a time to compare labels, it's a time to get in and out as quickly as possible. And then sit in the car and sanitize your hands before driving away.
I miss the bulk bins in the grocery store, where you could buy a small amount of nuts or dried fruit, a small amount of random seeds and grains. Bulk bins are great for those of us who don't want to commit to storing a pound of something in our cupboards, we can buy two cups, try it out and come back for more. Snacks were so varied in the bulk bins: lime and chili roasted peanuts, salt and vinegar cashews, one piece of English Toffee. A person could cheat the system a little buy getting organic and putting the non-organic bin number on the tag. Will bulk bins ever return?
But I have learned to download library books to my iPhone, which makes me happy. I prefer reading a real book but as long as there is reading material available to me, I will use it any way I can. Plus it is full-on spring right now and seeing the new shoots of ferns push up through the hard-packed dirt is lovely. The pine trees have brilliant green new growth on the tips of the branches, as do most of the plants in the garden. My lettuce starts are getting bigger, radish seeds have sprouted. While people are sick and dying, nature is budding and thriving in some ways.
There is time now to sit and do nothing, stare at the trees, no book in hand, mind in a meditative state. Time to release the ever present anxiety, let it be replaced by calm energy and appreciation of the fresh air. From my small sofa, I can look out the window and see lizards chasing each other across the hillside, watch them do their lizard push-ups on log stumps, see the weeds blow in the breeze.
Yes, all of this lockdown is annoying and it is getting old and some people are now bending the rules about staying in their place of shelter. (Even me, going to my daughter's house to do laundry and share a meal.) But read why countries like Australian and New Zealand and Denmark have so few cases of the Covid-19 virus and it's clear those rules shouldn't be bent. Being bored in your home is better than being sick for weeks or dead.
Be careful out there and be happy.
.
Therefore, I am jumping in with my little article on what I miss, how I feel as a single person living basically in one room, things that are giving me small moments of joy. It's all about me.....
I miss the ability to be spontaneous, to hop in the car and go to the library, to run to the market for a forgotten ingredient, to meet a friend for coffee. Now that we can't go anywhere, road trips are on my mind all the time. Even driving to the ocean seems like a big deal, but the ocean is now closed to all of us because of idiots who crowded there at the beginning of this situation and ruined it for so many. I actually miss going to the laundromat to do several loads of laundry at one time. Now it is one load at a time, one load a week, usually at my daughter's house and I am incredibly grateful for that. There's nothing like a drawer full of clean underwear to make you feel wealthy!
I had a dentist appointment scheduled for April, which obviously didn't happen. Most people hate going to the dentist. I like going, it makes me feel not just responsibly adult-like, but my teeth are somewhat fragile and seeing the hygienists and the doc a couple of times a year reassures me that dentures might not be a necessity. I want my teeth to last as long as I do and thus I miss getting the "OK, good for another six months" validation.
Everything is couched in anxiety now: even pressing the buttons on the gas pump makes you wonder if the last person who touched them had the virus. Going to the grocery store isn't easy, breathing through a mask, avoiding everyone else in the building, it's no longer a time to compare labels, it's a time to get in and out as quickly as possible. And then sit in the car and sanitize your hands before driving away.
I miss the bulk bins in the grocery store, where you could buy a small amount of nuts or dried fruit, a small amount of random seeds and grains. Bulk bins are great for those of us who don't want to commit to storing a pound of something in our cupboards, we can buy two cups, try it out and come back for more. Snacks were so varied in the bulk bins: lime and chili roasted peanuts, salt and vinegar cashews, one piece of English Toffee. A person could cheat the system a little buy getting organic and putting the non-organic bin number on the tag. Will bulk bins ever return?
But I have learned to download library books to my iPhone, which makes me happy. I prefer reading a real book but as long as there is reading material available to me, I will use it any way I can. Plus it is full-on spring right now and seeing the new shoots of ferns push up through the hard-packed dirt is lovely. The pine trees have brilliant green new growth on the tips of the branches, as do most of the plants in the garden. My lettuce starts are getting bigger, radish seeds have sprouted. While people are sick and dying, nature is budding and thriving in some ways.
There is time now to sit and do nothing, stare at the trees, no book in hand, mind in a meditative state. Time to release the ever present anxiety, let it be replaced by calm energy and appreciation of the fresh air. From my small sofa, I can look out the window and see lizards chasing each other across the hillside, watch them do their lizard push-ups on log stumps, see the weeds blow in the breeze.
Yes, all of this lockdown is annoying and it is getting old and some people are now bending the rules about staying in their place of shelter. (Even me, going to my daughter's house to do laundry and share a meal.) But read why countries like Australian and New Zealand and Denmark have so few cases of the Covid-19 virus and it's clear those rules shouldn't be bent. Being bored in your home is better than being sick for weeks or dead.
Be careful out there and be happy.
.
Friday, May 8, 2020
So much to say, but so little seems to matter.
Before we start, while I go dry my eyes yet one more time, I have two short videos for you to watch. The first was made by my friend Amy, who is trying to find a bit of joy in this current world. Kleenex at the ready, here it is:
The second one is from the New York Times, a little video of a doctor treating Covid patients who is also a musician and how she got other classical musicians to make music for those patients, in their rooms, even if they can't respond to the sounds. It is a beautiful tribute to the care and humanity of health care workers, doctors, nurses and patients and therefore of everyone.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/03/nyregion/coronavirus-doctor-musician-rachel-easterwood.html
Those two videos say more than I can put into words. It's crappy time out there, folks, and it ain't gonna bet better soon. But there are tiny good moments of humanity and we need to be aware of those. I don't know about you, but the smallest thing now makes me cry. Words from an old song, hearing that someone's Dad just died, knowing that people are grieving all around us for so many reasons: lost friends, family, lost jobs, lost hope. Lucinda Williams and Steve Earle today sang loudly at me in my car and they both, separately, made me grab at something to dry my eyes.
Yes, everyone is tired of this lockdown but no one is tired of being healthy and safe. Yes, everyone wants to go to the library, the neighborhood watering hole, the grocery store, the park on the corner and talk without a muffling mask, but everyone is also okay with being able to walk without wheezing. No one can complain that they are too healthy. No one can whine that they are not in a hospital, fighting for air. We can all be okay with distancing if it means we can breathe.
I will not address the hoards of people who believe that this virus is just a flu. As I will not address the so-called leadership of this country.
Be safe and please be happy.
I wanna watch the ocean bend
the edges of the sun then
I wanna get swallowed up in
An ocean of love.
Lucinda Williams
It takes two minutes to watch it. Watch it.
The second one is from the New York Times, a little video of a doctor treating Covid patients who is also a musician and how she got other classical musicians to make music for those patients, in their rooms, even if they can't respond to the sounds. It is a beautiful tribute to the care and humanity of health care workers, doctors, nurses and patients and therefore of everyone.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/03/nyregion/coronavirus-doctor-musician-rachel-easterwood.html
Those two videos say more than I can put into words. It's crappy time out there, folks, and it ain't gonna bet better soon. But there are tiny good moments of humanity and we need to be aware of those. I don't know about you, but the smallest thing now makes me cry. Words from an old song, hearing that someone's Dad just died, knowing that people are grieving all around us for so many reasons: lost friends, family, lost jobs, lost hope. Lucinda Williams and Steve Earle today sang loudly at me in my car and they both, separately, made me grab at something to dry my eyes.
Yes, everyone is tired of this lockdown but no one is tired of being healthy and safe. Yes, everyone wants to go to the library, the neighborhood watering hole, the grocery store, the park on the corner and talk without a muffling mask, but everyone is also okay with being able to walk without wheezing. No one can complain that they are too healthy. No one can whine that they are not in a hospital, fighting for air. We can all be okay with distancing if it means we can breathe.
I will not address the hoards of people who believe that this virus is just a flu. As I will not address the so-called leadership of this country.
Be safe and please be happy.
I wanna watch the ocean bend
the edges of the sun then
I wanna get swallowed up in
An ocean of love.
Lucinda Williams
Saturday, May 2, 2020
My words in the New York Times!
The few people who read this blog probably already know this because I blasted it over the airwaves yesterday. The editor of the Food Section of the NYT is Sam Sifton. Sifton and I have been emailing back and forth for a year or so, not often, not long missives, but we have been in touch. I wrote to him last week and he liked what I wrote so much he included it in yesterday's column. The link is below.
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/01/dining/what-to-cook-this-weekend.html
To say that I was honored is putting it lightly. I am a huge Sam Sifton fan, not just because he kicks butt with recipes but because he is a very good writer and is very in touch with his readers. Lately, with all the crap that is going on in the world, Sam has been kind and supportive and it is a pleasure to read him a couple of times a week. If you don't follow him yet, please do.
On a cooking/baking note, there was in yesterday's edition a recipe for a quick bread, Snickerdoodle Pound Cake. Try it, it's delicious. If you don't have sour cream, Melissa Clark makes it easy for you, giving you several things to substitute. I made it as is with the addition of a generous half cup of toasted walnuts chopped. You can get it in the oven in about 20 minutes max and it is simple and yet very yummy. My only "heads up" is to make sure you grease the pan well and after it cools about ten minutes, run a sharp knife around the edge of the pan. Let it cool for about 30 minutes than tip it over and tap the bottom of the loaf pan, it should come out.
Here it is:
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/01/dining/snickerdoodle-poundcake-recipe-coronavirus.html
On your mark, get set, BAKE!
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/01/dining/what-to-cook-this-weekend.html
To say that I was honored is putting it lightly. I am a huge Sam Sifton fan, not just because he kicks butt with recipes but because he is a very good writer and is very in touch with his readers. Lately, with all the crap that is going on in the world, Sam has been kind and supportive and it is a pleasure to read him a couple of times a week. If you don't follow him yet, please do.
On a cooking/baking note, there was in yesterday's edition a recipe for a quick bread, Snickerdoodle Pound Cake. Try it, it's delicious. If you don't have sour cream, Melissa Clark makes it easy for you, giving you several things to substitute. I made it as is with the addition of a generous half cup of toasted walnuts chopped. You can get it in the oven in about 20 minutes max and it is simple and yet very yummy. My only "heads up" is to make sure you grease the pan well and after it cools about ten minutes, run a sharp knife around the edge of the pan. Let it cool for about 30 minutes than tip it over and tap the bottom of the loaf pan, it should come out.
Here it is:
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/01/dining/snickerdoodle-poundcake-recipe-coronavirus.html
On your mark, get set, BAKE!
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