Very quick, more to follow soon. Who doesn't love a fruit crisp, hot fruit with crispy goodness on top? You would need to be a vampire not to like that. Or a zombie. But sometimes you just want the fruit and some crunch. No flour, no angst about whether it will be crispy enough. Here is what you want: https://smittenkitchen.com/2013/08/almond-crisped-peaches-uk-book-tour/
Skip the conversation and get straight to the recipe. She makes it with peaches. In my neighborhood there is an abundance of apples and pears right now. I picked up some perfect (i.e. no blemishes, no worm holes) pears and I made this recipe with one of those pears. Cut the ingredients down to about half, so I used raw almonds chopped up fine, about a quarter cup chopped, a healthy tablespoon of sugar and a couple of tablespoons melted butter. Dash of nutmeg. It might have been better if the almonds were even finer than I chopped them but I hate getting out the Cuisinart for such a small job. Next time I will chop them into a much finer grind. But I mixed the three ingredients together (with a dash of spice, how hard is that?) and I smushed them onto the large pear I had cored, and baked it at 350 for about 45 minutes. Let it stand for about 15 minutes, drained the juices off into some unflavored Greek yogurt and used that as my topping. (Ice cream would be fine, but I didn't have it and I like the tang of sturdy yogurt) and it was pretty much my dinner. I will do it again in the next day or two, trying for a finer chop. It was really nice, pears hold their shape until they don't and I took them out of the oven at the right time so they were not mushy. The nutty topping, combined with the juicy yogurt, was perfect with the warm, soft pears.
It takes like two minutes to put this together, it would be just as good with apples. Even better with a scoop of salted caramel ice cream, if you had that. But I will revert to the Greek yogurt..... I just like the tartness of it with the baked fruit.
That's it. Carry on. More to come tomorrow.
Monday, September 25, 2017
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Dogs, drugs, daughters and reading
If you are a dog owner you will understand this. If you have ever been a dog owner, ditto. If you are a cat owner, I have no idea. If you have never owned a dog, this will be nothing.
Little Cooper is spending this week at his cousin Hannah's house. The reasons are not important. But having had Cooper for more than ten years, it is so odd to be inhis our place and have him not be here. (Yes, he does think of it as his place, just to be clear, I am thought of as the Person Who Provides Food and an Interloper. And the Walkers Person. But it is clear by Cooper's facial expressions that he is on the lease (NOT) and I am simply paying the rent.)
But I come home, he is not here. I go to sleep, he is not here. I wake up, same thing. It's sort of nice, no one nipping at my heels, metaphorically, but it is also rather odd. Kind of like when your mate (of the human kind) that you have lived with for 10 plus years is gone for a couple of days, you revel in the freedom and then you miss them. (And you might do things that the person or dog would frown upon, like dancing in your underwear or watching porn on your computer or eating cheesy queso dip with chips or getting stoned. I have done none of that, just so you know, but I have done other things I will not discuss. things that Cooper would not allow.So, that's where I am about that.)
I miss little Cooper but I am fine with him being at Gabe and Annie's and I will retrieve him on Friday. In the meantime, it's nice to know that he has stolen part of my heart and part of my exercise routine. Little sot that he is. I won't walk two miles in the morning (or afternoon) without him, that's for sure.
Drugs: I knew you were jonesing for this part. If you read my blog you know I have a knee joint that is fucked up, to put it bluntly. I went to the very cool, very lovely osteopath doc today to get a shot of cortisone in my knee. We will see if it works. 70% get great relief for 1 - 12 months. 30% do not. It's a mystery why it works, but unless anyone out there has clear evidence of cortisone's harmful properties, I am hoping it works. The knee pain is tolerable but I am tired of tolerating it. It makes me limp, it throws the rest of my walking stride off and thus fucks up my back. We will see how this cortisone injection works or doesn't work.
Yesterday: I dropped Cooper off at Gabe's house, met Jenn around noon at BART and we spent the day going to 2 museums, having a quick yummy banh mi for lunch in a dive on Clement Street, driving over the GG Bridge and taking a right turn onto Alexander Drive but then veering off to the Marin Headlands and on to Cavallo Point. We sat at Farley Bar for at least an hour, looking out at the bay, nursing a single drink, watching barges, container ships and a gigantic cruise ship come in and/or out. It was warm, sunny and lovely. Then we mingled with commute traffic for a few minutes, turned off in Corte Madera, shopped, moved on to San Rafael and had a lovely dinner at Le Comptoir on 4th Street. Delicious and fun and excellent conversation. Then homeward. It was one of the best days, for me, with my daughter, in...... years and years. We are going to do it again, later this fall, when the exhibitions at the two museums are new.
I am amazed by my children. Just amazed. I wrote about this earlier. Don't want to be repetitive, but they kick ass in every way.
Finally, reading. I haven't read anything lately that knocks me over. I am reading the current Julia Glass novel, "A House Among the Trees" which is good but not great. I have read most of her previous novels. This one seems too wordy, but it might be my current impatience for too much prose. Not sure. I read "The Chalk Artist" by Allegra Goodman which I liked, but didn't love. Decent characters, and yet..... again, probably because I am tired of novels or any genres that don't make me long to read them when I am not reading them. I want to be thinking about the book when I am driving home from work, to want to escape into that book.
Yes, sort of an obsession, but the books I am currently reading are not giving me that, but it will happen. There are three books languishing at the library, under my name, on the reserved shelves, one of those might be The One for this year. I hope so. Otherwise, we read on, like boats against the current.
blah, blah, blah. Thanks for reading this far.
xo
.
Little Cooper is spending this week at his cousin Hannah's house. The reasons are not important. But having had Cooper for more than ten years, it is so odd to be in
But I come home, he is not here. I go to sleep, he is not here. I wake up, same thing. It's sort of nice, no one nipping at my heels, metaphorically, but it is also rather odd. Kind of like when your mate (of the human kind) that you have lived with for 10 plus years is gone for a couple of days, you revel in the freedom and then you miss them. (And you might do things that the person or dog would frown upon, like dancing in your underwear or watching porn on your computer or eating cheesy queso dip with chips or getting stoned. I have done none of that, just so you know, but I have done other things I will not discuss. things that Cooper would not allow.So, that's where I am about that.)
I miss little Cooper but I am fine with him being at Gabe and Annie's and I will retrieve him on Friday. In the meantime, it's nice to know that he has stolen part of my heart and part of my exercise routine. Little sot that he is. I won't walk two miles in the morning (or afternoon) without him, that's for sure.
Drugs: I knew you were jonesing for this part. If you read my blog you know I have a knee joint that is fucked up, to put it bluntly. I went to the very cool, very lovely osteopath doc today to get a shot of cortisone in my knee. We will see if it works. 70% get great relief for 1 - 12 months. 30% do not. It's a mystery why it works, but unless anyone out there has clear evidence of cortisone's harmful properties, I am hoping it works. The knee pain is tolerable but I am tired of tolerating it. It makes me limp, it throws the rest of my walking stride off and thus fucks up my back. We will see how this cortisone injection works or doesn't work.
Yesterday: I dropped Cooper off at Gabe's house, met Jenn around noon at BART and we spent the day going to 2 museums, having a quick yummy banh mi for lunch in a dive on Clement Street, driving over the GG Bridge and taking a right turn onto Alexander Drive but then veering off to the Marin Headlands and on to Cavallo Point. We sat at Farley Bar for at least an hour, looking out at the bay, nursing a single drink, watching barges, container ships and a gigantic cruise ship come in and/or out. It was warm, sunny and lovely. Then we mingled with commute traffic for a few minutes, turned off in Corte Madera, shopped, moved on to San Rafael and had a lovely dinner at Le Comptoir on 4th Street. Delicious and fun and excellent conversation. Then homeward. It was one of the best days, for me, with my daughter, in...... years and years. We are going to do it again, later this fall, when the exhibitions at the two museums are new.
I am amazed by my children. Just amazed. I wrote about this earlier. Don't want to be repetitive, but they kick ass in every way.
Finally, reading. I haven't read anything lately that knocks me over. I am reading the current Julia Glass novel, "A House Among the Trees" which is good but not great. I have read most of her previous novels. This one seems too wordy, but it might be my current impatience for too much prose. Not sure. I read "The Chalk Artist" by Allegra Goodman which I liked, but didn't love. Decent characters, and yet..... again, probably because I am tired of novels or any genres that don't make me long to read them when I am not reading them. I want to be thinking about the book when I am driving home from work, to want to escape into that book.
Yes, sort of an obsession, but the books I am currently reading are not giving me that, but it will happen. There are three books languishing at the library, under my name, on the reserved shelves, one of those might be The One for this year. I hope so. Otherwise, we read on, like boats against the current.
blah, blah, blah. Thanks for reading this far.
xo
.
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Black hole of unemployment, Part 4, some resolution
Finally, some resolution, at least in terms of my identity. It seems I am who I thought I was and EDD is agreeing with me. It doesn't mean they have figured out if I am getting unemployment benefits but at least they have acknowledged that I exist in my name and SSN. That's a start.
I talked to them on Friday, I will talk to them tomorrow, on Monday. In the meantime I am trying to put these jobs that keep biting my ankles on the back burner. Or, to confuse metaphors even more, I am trying to make the job offers less like offers and more like small plate items. I want some of them but I don't want the big bites they want me to take. I want a nibbling job. Three days a week with three months off for the winter. It's a pipe dream (and I ain't sucking no pipe here, let's be clear on that) that might happen or might not. I don't care. Something will come about.
There are places I want to go to in December and January and a job would get in the way of that. But money is necessary. Without a retirement package and without any sort of net, I can't afford NOT to work. But emotionally, psychologically and physically, I can't afford to work full time for much longer. I have been working straight on for more than 50 years. I am tired of it.
At least the State of California how recognizes me as a tax paying person. Let's see where they go with that.
.
I talked to them on Friday, I will talk to them tomorrow, on Monday. In the meantime I am trying to put these jobs that keep biting my ankles on the back burner. Or, to confuse metaphors even more, I am trying to make the job offers less like offers and more like small plate items. I want some of them but I don't want the big bites they want me to take. I want a nibbling job. Three days a week with three months off for the winter. It's a pipe dream (and I ain't sucking no pipe here, let's be clear on that) that might happen or might not. I don't care. Something will come about.
There are places I want to go to in December and January and a job would get in the way of that. But money is necessary. Without a retirement package and without any sort of net, I can't afford NOT to work. But emotionally, psychologically and physically, I can't afford to work full time for much longer. I have been working straight on for more than 50 years. I am tired of it.
At least the State of California how recognizes me as a tax paying person. Let's see where they go with that.
.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Sam Shepard
I thought I had written a post about Sam Shepard. It appears that did not happen. Tonight I watched "Don't Come Knocking" on Amazon, a movie with Sam Shepard and Jessica Lange, and as you know, they were married for many years.
I searched for movies with Sam Shepard and this one came up. I knew nothing about it, but as I was watching it, I knew it had to have been written by Sam and/or directed by him. It's about fathers and sons and wives and daughters. Shepard wrote about those relationships almost exclusively. He didn't write about the mountains or fishing or living and dying without the clouds of father-son-family covering everything. When the movie ended, I saw that it was directed by Wim Wenders, screenplay by Sam Shepard and story by Wenders and Shepard. Duh. Figures. Wenders and Shepard, great combo.
The movie is slow but the last 30 minutes are stunning. The last 30 minutes are the point, and that's how many of Shepard's plays/movies are. You watch, you wait, you go get another glass of wine, you wonder..... and then you are blown away. The emotion, the honesty in the universal words of relationships, the slap in the face of the reveal.
Sam Shepard wrote, produced and performed in many plays in SF at the Magic Theater at Fort Mason. I know John and I saw at least one of his plays, and maybe more. Shepard was a brilliant writer, producer, director and actor.
He was also amazingly sexy. He wasn't Hollywood handsome and he had crooked teeth but he moved and held himself in such a way that the viewer (at least this one) got the gift he gave: be yourself, be bold, be brazen and be balls-up sexy. He did, he had it, we wanted it. Without hesitation, I can say that Sam Shepard, with his rugged face and his gap-tooth smile, was sexier than George Clooney on Clooney's best day. And I can get a dozen women to agree. And I love George Clooney and he is sexy as hell. Same with Ryan Gosling. Shepard put them all on Little League teams in the sexy category. Go figure.
I will miss his writing and his occasional forays into current movies. Watch "Cold in July" and tell me you aren't freaked out by Sam standing next to the car, suddenly appearing, silently, like a cypher. But not being scary, just scaring you by his presence. And there are more, but find them for yourselves. He has power on the screen.
He was only 73, Sam died from complications from "Lou Gehrig's" disease, he left us too soon. But he left us with a lot to read, to watch, to ponder. Find his work, read, watch, think and be amazed at his incredible mind. Well, yes, and his persona.
.
I searched for movies with Sam Shepard and this one came up. I knew nothing about it, but as I was watching it, I knew it had to have been written by Sam and/or directed by him. It's about fathers and sons and wives and daughters. Shepard wrote about those relationships almost exclusively. He didn't write about the mountains or fishing or living and dying without the clouds of father-son-family covering everything. When the movie ended, I saw that it was directed by Wim Wenders, screenplay by Sam Shepard and story by Wenders and Shepard. Duh. Figures. Wenders and Shepard, great combo.
The movie is slow but the last 30 minutes are stunning. The last 30 minutes are the point, and that's how many of Shepard's plays/movies are. You watch, you wait, you go get another glass of wine, you wonder..... and then you are blown away. The emotion, the honesty in the universal words of relationships, the slap in the face of the reveal.
Sam Shepard wrote, produced and performed in many plays in SF at the Magic Theater at Fort Mason. I know John and I saw at least one of his plays, and maybe more. Shepard was a brilliant writer, producer, director and actor.
He was also amazingly sexy. He wasn't Hollywood handsome and he had crooked teeth but he moved and held himself in such a way that the viewer (at least this one) got the gift he gave: be yourself, be bold, be brazen and be balls-up sexy. He did, he had it, we wanted it. Without hesitation, I can say that Sam Shepard, with his rugged face and his gap-tooth smile, was sexier than George Clooney on Clooney's best day. And I can get a dozen women to agree. And I love George Clooney and he is sexy as hell. Same with Ryan Gosling. Shepard put them all on Little League teams in the sexy category. Go figure.
I will miss his writing and his occasional forays into current movies. Watch "Cold in July" and tell me you aren't freaked out by Sam standing next to the car, suddenly appearing, silently, like a cypher. But not being scary, just scaring you by his presence. And there are more, but find them for yourselves. He has power on the screen.
He was only 73, Sam died from complications from "Lou Gehrig's" disease, he left us too soon. But he left us with a lot to read, to watch, to ponder. Find his work, read, watch, think and be amazed at his incredible mind. Well, yes, and his persona.
.
Black hole of unemployment, Part 3
Still no resolution on my lost identity. Still no unemployment benefits, no money, no time frame for when money might be available. Still in limbo. But I am also still hopeful that I will be given a new identity, a new SSN, a new photo on my new drivers license, maybe from a different state, like from Kansas or South Dakota. I am tired of my persona, of my 67 year old identifying marks, of my face, my hair, my clothes. Give me something else, State of California, or give me back my Fucking Regular Identity and pay me my Fucking Unemployment Benefits, you fucking bureaucratic nightmare!
Maybe cursing and swearing will help. I know it always helps me.
Sail on.
.
Maybe cursing and swearing will help. I know it always helps me.
Sail on.
.
Thursday, September 7, 2017
Why is it when you just want to sit back and collect unemployment (for my lost identity) job offers keep coming your way? CRAZY!!!
Seriously, I have three job interviews lined up for the next week, and no matter what I say on the phone, these callers are not deterred. I ask what it pays, I ask what the schedule is, I tell them I have a current part time job, I tell them that I hate people, that I loathe computers, that I am illiterate, that I am always late and that I am deaf and blind (kidding about that) and they don't care. They still want me to come in for an interview, to meet with the "person in charge." It's just bizarre.
My working theory has always been that if you are invited to an interview, you need to go. It's just part of the process and if it leads to nowhere, that's fine. One place almost offered me the job before meeting me and I emailed them a really nice "you know, the swing shift isn't going to work for me and I might need to have knee surgery in the winter so I appreciate your interest but I have to say "No thanks" and they still asked me to come by to see the property! Which I will do because this is a place that is in Guerneville called Auto Camp and it's 20 Airstream trailers tricked out to be overnight lodging. I have followed this story for the past year and I want to see the place, so even though I made it clear I didn't want the job, they invited me to come and check it out! And they said, in the email, "There might be a position for you in the future, and we are looking forward to meeting you." So I will go, of course. Who knows what will happen. I love Airstreams, so why not check it out?
So, basically, go figure. Crazy times. I know my resume is stellar in the hospitality industry and I give good phone, but it still cracks me up that people want to meet me and see if their job can appeal to me. And the pay, for some, is decent, not great, but better than I was getting at the Olea Hotel.
As these things progress, I will let you know what happens. For now, it's a lark. One of the interviews next week is at a really high-end place about 20 minutes from here, and I am considering wearing flip-flops and cut-offs to the "interview" and seeing what happens. I probably won't. But I want to!
.
My working theory has always been that if you are invited to an interview, you need to go. It's just part of the process and if it leads to nowhere, that's fine. One place almost offered me the job before meeting me and I emailed them a really nice "you know, the swing shift isn't going to work for me and I might need to have knee surgery in the winter so I appreciate your interest but I have to say "No thanks" and they still asked me to come by to see the property! Which I will do because this is a place that is in Guerneville called Auto Camp and it's 20 Airstream trailers tricked out to be overnight lodging. I have followed this story for the past year and I want to see the place, so even though I made it clear I didn't want the job, they invited me to come and check it out! And they said, in the email, "There might be a position for you in the future, and we are looking forward to meeting you." So I will go, of course. Who knows what will happen. I love Airstreams, so why not check it out?
So, basically, go figure. Crazy times. I know my resume is stellar in the hospitality industry and I give good phone, but it still cracks me up that people want to meet me and see if their job can appeal to me. And the pay, for some, is decent, not great, but better than I was getting at the Olea Hotel.
As these things progress, I will let you know what happens. For now, it's a lark. One of the interviews next week is at a really high-end place about 20 minutes from here, and I am considering wearing flip-flops and cut-offs to the "interview" and seeing what happens. I probably won't. But I want to!
.
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
Black hole of unemployment, Part 2
After an hour of calling and recalling EDD this morning, I finally was lucky enough to be put on the "we'll call you back" list. You don't get put on that list, it seems, if there are too many people waiting in line in front of you. Once on that call-back list, I only had to wait 12 minutes for someone to return my call. It only took an hour to get on that list.
All my EDD information is in some kind of bureaucratic limbo because they cannot verify my identity. Why my identity is in question is still vague, my questions are still unanswered. Supposedly in 7 to 10 days they will have an answer for me. By then I will either be Julia Garagliano or maybe I will be someone else with some other identity. Perhaps that will be a good thing, I am a bit tired of this old persona and a new one might be an invigorating change. Whoever/whatever is currently Julia Garagliano can have that old identity, and I will take a new one. Sort of like a virtual Witness Protection Program.
I can hardly wait.
.
All my EDD information is in some kind of bureaucratic limbo because they cannot verify my identity. Why my identity is in question is still vague, my questions are still unanswered. Supposedly in 7 to 10 days they will have an answer for me. By then I will either be Julia Garagliano or maybe I will be someone else with some other identity. Perhaps that will be a good thing, I am a bit tired of this old persona and a new one might be an invigorating change. Whoever/whatever is currently Julia Garagliano can have that old identity, and I will take a new one. Sort of like a virtual Witness Protection Program.
I can hardly wait.
.
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