When Do We Hit the Bottom of the Rabbit Hole?

To the Moon 

So. Now the plan is to spend 20 billion dollars to build a livable structure on the moon and send astronauts there every six months. To what end? In the meantime, insurance subsidies have been pulled, housing is in short supply and outrageously expensive. We are spending billions on an unauthorized war we started, with the help of Israel, eying Cuba as the next place to show our superiority and turning longtime allies into foes. The cost of living has become unlivable, for many, truly. Yet, fly me to the moon. Yep. That's a solid plan. Hey, are we great yet? Cause I think if we were mediocre before I'd rather that.

Another Monday

Matthew spent decades in the back of a closet. I brought him out yesterday, deciding Mark should have him gracing his office. I was a stickler for having professional photos done. I believe he would have been about eight. What hair he has left is very dark brown, looks black. Odd it can change like that. He will be fifty-two next month.

I've spent the last couple of days helping Mark set up a new computer. I guess I'm the tech guy. Today he'll call the tax software company to get help downloading the tax files and then he should be done. Leave it an accountant to wait until tax season to do this, as the computer was purchased in February. I have been a Mac person from day one, so working with this system was not my bailiwick. 

My other accomplishment was getting the anti-glare film on the south facing windows of his office. Since the large tree that shaded this area of the house had to be felled the sun, even with the blind drawn, has been too much. You don't know how necessary a large tree is until it's gone. I guess that can be said about a lot of things.

I threw together another leftovers meal yesterday. Leftover faro and pork loin with broccoli, tomatoes, onion and garlic. Took all of about ten minutes. Tops. 

Today my excitement is laundry. I know, you wish you had my exotic life. 

 

More Photos

As some know, I've been going through the large amount of photos I brought home from my parent's home after my mother died six years ago. Today I'm going to make it mostly all about me.

My brother Robert. And me. He's three years younger so I was maybe five.

Our dog, Duchess, when we lived in San Diego. She was born 2 months after me and died when I was 14. We grew up together and I loved her and she loved me.

Me at maybe four with, I suppose, a cousin from the paternal side. I didn't know that side well but this would have been the grandparents house. German Shepherd puppies.

The grandparents, Blanche and Arthur. Me with the doll they gave me for Christmas. The doll my mother told (screamed) my father to put in the attic because a seven year old did something that terrible that she never saw it again. It was in the attic when I sold the house. I left it there.

Duchess.

Blanche and Arthur at their home.

I got to know Blanche about a year before she died. I started going to her house several times a week. She was nothing like I'd been told she was. She had a library full of books and she let me take whatever I wanted. I got many family heirlooms from her. Better late than never that I got to know her. She was a regal woman, smart and independent minded. She was pleased she got to see and know me before she died.

Frieda

My cat has an obsessive problem.

 Throughout the day, she must do this. And lick plastic.

Let it Snow

March

This is standard March weather. Wednesday will be 50 F. March is like riding the rollercoaster. Snow is expected throughout today and all day tomorrow. Later the wind starts to howl so there will be blizzard conditions. We have no need to leave home.

Good Saturday

Just a coupla guys,

The detritus of ever changing technology. There are days when I may belong in that tumbled mess.

 But, not today.

Finished the Finish

I finished the kitchen floor yesterday. It was a fix-up, not a proper job, but it was my only choice and it turned out well enough. At least the wood is protected, which much of it had not been. I have the small bathroom, powder room, off the kitchen left to do. 

I've been keeping myself busy but news does get in. $11.8 billion was spent on the first week of bombing Iran. Let that sink in. Happy Days are here again.

On to my coffee and bagel.

Buongiorno amici miei. 

I have been doing my Italian study, Cheerful! I've been offline for a couple of days to get some work done as well as to get away from the overwhelming, nonstop chaos. That is not possible, but less is best sometimes.

I've been working on finish refurbishing of my kitchen floor. There is no chance of having it sanded and refinished due to the kitchen sitting in the middle of the house. There is no chance of staying in a motel with six cats and I would never leave the place empty overnight because of the horses. So, I'm channeling my father and came up with a doable solution. Today will be spent applying tung oil.

We've had pasta and more pasta for dinner while I am at this. Quick and easy. 

Shrimp, asparagus and pici pasta

 Lobster ravioli with a browned sage butter sauce. Not the most photographic, but browned butter and sage is delicious. At least I think so.

Distraction From Chaos

My first Arabian, Shaka. I went to look at him one fine day to potentially buy. He was young and a hot-blooded fellow. I used a mounting block, which his owner decided not to mention he hadn't seen before, so............he tossed me over his body to the ground so fast it seemed like it could not have happened. Shortening the story, I said I'd buy him. The owner's jaw nearly hit the ground. I loved this horse from that day until the day he died on Thanksgiving 2009, and still love the memory of him. Talented, opinionated, he knew he was a star. He was training Prix St. George when he retired due to arthritis in a knee. 

The first American Saddlebred I owned, Spenser. His trainer, in the photo, took him to a harvested cornfield to ride and came back overflowing with excitement. He could rack! The rack is an animated, fast, high stepping gait. The surface of the corn field brought out the ability he had that we didn't know he had. I did not intend to show him so it wasn't important other than the amazement that he could do it. Instead, this fancy fellow became my trail horse. He also was taught to drive and he really liked doing that. His cart is still stored in a shed.

 Tabby

Frieda

Gatto

As you can see, we've been busy.

Something Lovely

Beautiful. Voice and young man. 

Horses

 

The old boys club.

Laddy 27, Ben 26, Bounce 24, and Scamper 23. 

My oldest is a mare, Babe, the first born to my foundation mare, LF Diamond Rose. Babe is 32. Mama Rose died giving birth to Zing in 2001. His registered name is WF Last of Roses, his barn name, Zing is also a tribute to his dam. If she wanted something she would zing her teeth up and down the stall door bars. She was also called Jailhouse Mama when she did that. That was a tough year, six foals, one an orphan. I didn't have a chance to grieve her loss, so I carried the pain for a couple of years. I adored that mare.

Mama with Topper (WF Impressive) 1997-2025

I think the horse infatuation is born into us. It tends toward the female but not exclusively. There is just something about them that grabs and holds. There is a saying in the horse world. "How do you make a small fortune in horses? Start with a large one."                                                                

Not Much

I didn't watch the bloviating buffoon. From what I've gleaned I was wise. I did read he called this the Golden Age. It may have been Golden Years. I guess he doesn't know what that period was, the few years before the crash which brought on the Great Depression. Opulence, wealth beyond imagination for a few, all built on a house of cards. Of course he doesn't.

So, anyway. We are in single digits right now but have temperatures rising to the 40s F in a couple of days. I would not be unhappy with spring making its appearance in April. I want to play in the dirt.

I made breakfast for lunch yesterday. It was a nice break from the usual grind.                                                                

 

Just a Hello

No explanation necessary.

 

A House Cat's Life

A new toy for the boy.

I'm not particularly chatty these days. The mess of the US has been affecting me in a not good way. I'm going to put in some effort to get the things I talk about doing and then don't do done. The three Ds.

February Has Returned

And I'm glad.

 

Food. Again

Dollop of Daisy? Why a dollop when you can have a wallop. I don't particularly like to make lunch. Yesterday I had nothing on hand. I need to make bread, saints and sinners help me, no sandwiches. I had one bratwurst, black beans and tomatoes. A little hot sauce, cheese and sour cream and it was one more lunch. 

Our weather has been way too warm. Wednesday it is going back to "normal". I'm not sure what that is anymore. I wouldn't mind an early spring, one that is spring-like and not the hot and humid of the past few. I have a desire, it may even be a need, to get out and play in the dirt. In the meantime, I must make the blueberry clafoutis I've planned for the last several days. Somehow I don't get to it. I'd like to say my schedule has been just too hectic but I don't want you to laugh while drinking your coffee. I'm thinking of your keyboards.

Carrying on....I made linguine and meatballs for dinner. I made enough meatballs to have something for the dreaded lunch. Meatball sandwiches. I don't bake or fry the meatballs first. They cook in the sauce and are light as air. No egg, either. Milk as the binder.

You all have a good day and have a wallop of something 

 

The Valentine

My father 1939

Happy Birthday

I grew up without much affection, except for my grandmother and a bit from him. He was a smart, athletic and extremely selfish person. He loved to ice skate and had me on double bladed skates by the time I was three. He taught me to ice dance. There was an ice arena near our home and he got into long blades sometime in the late '60s. I carried my ice skating skills to roller-skates in my early teens. We also had a rollerskating arena near home.

He was the reason I got my first horse. He loved horses and had an American Saddlebred as a boy and an Arabian as a young man. Guess what I have owned for forty years. My first horse was a draft cross, he encouraged me toward a steady, well trained fellow, which was the right thing to do.

He is also the reason I was able to ski. I joined the ski club in junior high and he encouraged me. I spent years on downhill skis. He taught me how to change car oil, how to change a tire.

What he didn't do was protect his two children from our mother.

Chatty

Blackberries

While at Costco I picked up blackberries, something I haven't had in I don't know how long. This recipe called itself a cobbler but I wouldn't call it that. Anyway, whatever it's called it's good. I have developed, at my advanced age, a sweet tooth. My thought is that I'm stressed, depressed and all around out of sorts. Somehow, not only eating, but baking desserts is comforting for me. I am cutting the recipes in half. 

We are an ice rink. Melting during the day, freezing at night. I won't be making anymore adventures until this changes. My balance is terrible. I don't need a broken hip. I have been using the treadmill and my little peddler machine to help build lower body strength. I faced a tough fact recently. I'm not getting younger and there will be no magic wand waved over my head to fix me. I need to dig into myself and find a thread of the very determined person I once was.

Back to food. I bought steelhead trout, a favorite of mine, yesterday. I've been depriving myself because the cost soared and I balked. I gave in yesterday. So that is happily tonight's dinner. Fascinating, I know.

Life in the Eavestrough

What happened to decorum? Basic manners? Someone who knows what they are doing?

 *Credit Ann Telnaes

Whiling the Winter Away

Yes, I'm housebound and just a tiny bit stir crazy. I will be leaving the abode sometime on Thursday.....yay. In the meantime I go through photos. Why not? It's more enjoyable than cleaning the house. I have no idea who these two are but they were in with the hundreds of others. Why did children always look stern? They are a distant relative of some sort. It's really too bad no one thought to put names and dates on the photos, but then either did I when I was actually using film.

Fast forward decades........

This is a photo of Matthew, upper left, with the neighborhood buds. He was early teens. He is all paternal family in looks and build. He did somehow end up with black hair in his early twenties, which would be my lineage. Always a serious expression.

 We are in a too warm spell.

Let Me Eat Cake

We are having a warming trend at the moment. I know this sounds good, but warming above freezing causes problems for hoofed animals. It always turns to ice in the end. I prefer 20-30 F myself. But the weather does not care one whit what I prefer.

Even if I didn't know it is warmer Tabby's behavior would tell me. He is spending less time in the house. He was enjoying his repose the other day.

I've been spending time on small organizing jobs. They do add up over time. I also have been spending time baking. I have never been very interested in desserts but the anxiety swirling around seems to have awakened a sweet tooth I didn't know I had. Yesterday I made a lemon ricotta cake. Too bad my baking friends live far away. I have a lot of whey they could have. I use it for making bread.

My food hoarding urge is on alert. As my friend, the psychiatric nurse, told me, it's all about the need to feel control. Mine manifests itself in stocking up food. Just as I had become less of a hoarder we went back into turmoil. So both freezers are packed. Shelves are full. And I'm eating desserts! Which isn't the worst thing in the world. I'm going to Aldi this week to buy food for the local food shelf. I've donated money to an organization providing food for the residents in Minneapolis and St. Paul. It's what I can do.

That's the news from my corner of the world.  

2008

Things change yet stay the same. Or worsen. 

I wrote this the first month of my first year of blogging, August 2008. I remember this. It was horrendous what was done to this young woman. She had/has serious mental illness and to do this to anyone, much-less one so vulnerable is unforgivable. The anonymous writer scalded her. If you are going after someone on a public forum at least use your name. 

The reason I reposted it is, look at where we are now. The bile that is spewed daily, the loss of decorum, of basic manners and decency is overwhelming. The vilifying of large groups of people, the murdering of people in the streets. The fact that the government is now trying to deport a five-year-old. And about 40% of our population condones this. It's shameful.

Off my soapbox now. I'm in a mood.

Horse Play

Geezers at play

 

24 and 26 years old and they never grew up. I should be so lucky.

 

Fruity

Boud had asked for photos of my big Costco adventure but I got to replies after the fact. Since my life is rather narrow, as in a trip to Costco is an adventure, I saw this as I was getting ready for bed last night and knew it would make a fascinating blog post. Without further delay....fruit from the adventure! Tomatoes are, actually, a fruit, right? 

I have a lot of cut glass and crystal. Most of the cut glass was my grandma's. I decided a while ago that instead of collecting dust in a cabinet it may as well collect dust on the counter with fruit. So I load them up. 

I made a pot roast a few days ago, of which the leftovers became Wednesday's dinner. I don't like cooked carrots and Mark does, so he got the last of the potatoes and carrots. I opted for Brussels sprouts. Without the pot roast vegetables it doesn't look like much anything but some gravy covered meat. It was good all the same.

I've been spending time on the treadmill, just short slow walks throughout the day. I need to build up leg strength. I also have a pedal machine I haven't use for quite a while that I need to pull out. A few days ago I thought about the fact that I'm not getting any younger and if I want to be able to function as time goes on I had better take it seriously. So I'm trying. It's difficult for me to feel engaged at this time. Something many of us feel. But now is not the time to pull the blanket over the head. So.....that's that.

Power to the People

My deeply felt thank you to those who speak up. Not all have this talent but we do it in so many ways and it all matters.

https://youtu.be/fO-9JrPtj3Q?si=o2XLAqzFt0QzFIUt 

Carrying On

With the amount of absurdity swirling around those of us in the US, the schadenfreude of the few and the shock of everyone else, I have been busy trying to keep my sanity. What little remains. I've been doing a lot of baking and, of course, the general meal prep. Simple is so satisfying. Pan fried flounder. How simple and delicious on a cold Minnesota night.

Don't choke on your coffee, I will be leaving the walls of my own security to venture into the chaos of the world. I'm going to Costco. I feel like a world traveler.

 

Clippity-Clop

Mail Delivery

 

There are so many of the very old photos in the boxes with nothing written on back. I know that, except for a few clearly marked, they come from my maternal family. I didn't know any of these photos existed until my mother died, so I never had an opportunity to ask. I come from a fractured family. I barely knew my paternal side, never meeting some of my father's siblings. I knew my maternal grandma, thankfully, but any contact I'd had with anyone else ended when I was around ten.

I know personality disorders are difficult to understand. Believe me, I've heard it all, but folks -- they are real and not all that rare. There is no need to look farther than DC to see many and one in particular.

One thing I know for certain and have the evidence to prove it. My ancestors really liked their camera!

Ah, the Years

My mother had boxes and boxes of photos that I brought home when I was clearing out her house in 2020. I went through some of them but not all. These past few days I have been spending time looking through some. 

So......the passage of time: 

The back of this photo says I was six. My mother liked curly hair.

No age on this but I would guess maybe eight?

Again, no age. This is a little harder to guess. I would say from eleven to thirteen.

This photo I posted before to show the "don't mess with me" face I already had as a teen. I have a junior high yearbook that places me in ninth grade. I would have been fourteen at the time the photo was taken and fifteen a couple of months later.

This is my junior year in highschool. I was sixteen at the time of the photo and seventeen a couple of months later.

Looking at the expression on my face I think I understand why I never had a boyfriend during my school years. I may have scared them!