And So On

I finished watching "Anatomy of a Scandal" this morning. I liked it, it did all the things that keep me interested. I am someone who loses interest easily and this one kept me going. It had a very satisfying conclusion, for me.

I won't say anything about the premise so as to not ruin it, but it definitely shows privilege, who has it and how it's used.

We had a strong storm blow through about an hour ago. The day is expected to be dry, as in no rain, not the ground, until late afternoon, when it starts all over again. Mark hopes to get the grape vines off the arena fence over the weekend, I'm not so sure he will. 

Spring will come, it may be June, but it will come.

I have two beef briskets, one thawed for tonight's dinner. I looked online at the price of a brisket and was shocked. It's always been a costly cut, god knows why. It's very good if done right but I don't know how often it is done right. Perhaps only people who know what to do with it continue buying them? I get my meat through Butcher Box, so I don't know the individual price of each cut I order. It was $249/box but went to $259 this year. I have been buying from them for years, perhaps since they began. That is why I was so surprised by the price of a brisket. I also buy produce from Misfits Market. Not all of it, but when they have things I want it's at a very good price. They are not a subscription service so you can purchase or not.

The excitement in my life today will be re-scraping the veranda floor. I started that process two years ago this month, then Kate, my mother, died and eight months of my life were spent clearing out her house. Last year I think the weight of life crashed in on me, leaving me unable to do much of anything. I know longterm childhood abuse causes health and emotional issues in adulthood. If you don't walk away, as my brother did, from the abuser it never stops. So, I can scrape paint and hope to finish what I started. 

I'm done with my last cup of coffee, have my thoughts on virtual paper and think it's time to pick myself up and start the day.

Ciao Blog World

Reckoning

Earth Day

I was in high school in 1970, when the first Earth Day happened. I had a teenage girl crush on Cat Stevens, Shawn Phillips and Justin Hayward. I had wire rim glasses, I skipped study hall to stand outside with the rebels, smoking, like the cool kids we thought we were. I was suspended that year for this, my choir teacher complained. Apparently he had some pull. We had several walkouts protesting Vietnam. High school was my petrie dish.

There was a presentation in the school auditorium that day. Many of us bought Earth Shoes in anticipation of the event. We were full of righteous indignation about many things and now there was another. Somehow wearing a particular shoe to show how committed we were seemed right to the teenage mind. 

Fifty-two years have passed since this first Earth Day. We listened to lectures on the fragility of the earth's atmosphere. Did we listen then? Maybe. I think it was more about shoes for us. Are we listening now?

Yes, many are. Listening and doing are not the same thing though, are they.

Biden is talking about ramping up nuclear power to provide clean energy. Nuclear power isn't clean. We never have been able to figure out how to handle the toxic, never becomes non-toxic, waste. Is it such a stretch to put those billions into solar? Why is the human brain seemingly so limited it cannot see what is in front of it? 

We talk about history and how it will remember what has happened in the US, like everything is normal, other than that other stuff, like you know, people going mad. The earth isn't hitting the pause button. It's heating up. Climate is changing. What history are we talking about? People don't want to look it squarely in the, what, tornadoes in southern Minnesota while we have snow on the ground? 

Mark used to call me Debbie Downer. Now he says I'm still Debby Downer, but I'm right. I'm not right. The people I've paid close attention to the past couple of decades are right. If I could hear them, why couldn't/wouldn't those with the power to do something hear them? I think that answer is clear. Too bad the earth doesn't care about money.

Fifty-two years. 

And So It Goes

Things change. Time goes by. This fellow died five years ago today. 

To say I was attached to Howard and he to me is an understatement. I got him as a puppy after my basset, Harvey, died. Howard came with 'tude and then some! He was my Howard B. Hound, my stubborn, yeasty, hunk of folded flesh and his death broke me. I still had a basset I adopted as a senior, but Murphy died a year later. Basset Hounds are interesting, no doubt about it. We were dog-less until my mother's two came to live with us a couple years later. Now it's one dog. I don't plan on any more, but we all know about plans.

A change comes in taking this fencing down, the outdoor riding arena. It hasn't been used in years and the proliferation of wild grape vine has taken it over. The fence is drooped from the weight. A tree fell on a portion of it last year, breaking that section. Mark is outside lopping the vines off at the ground to make it easier to dismantle the fence. Many, many hours were spent in this space. My three dressage horses practically lived there. You wouldn't know it was sand, nature takes over in a flash, it's completely filled in with grass. Another era has a visible passing. 

This is the project I told Mark I was going to do when the weather improved. I can sit on a step stool and lop. He obviously doesn't want me to do that because he got sudden motivation to do it himself. After telling me he wouldn't be able to do it this year. I didn't intend for him to, but my speaking about doing it sure got him interested!

It's a passing with some memories but not with sadness. It's past its' prime and looks a royal mess. Time to go. It will take some getting used to looking out my office window and not see the fence.

Tomorrow is more rain. When it does warm up we will green like crazy. There isn't a leaf bud on a tree or bush and absolutely nothing is coming up in the perennial beds. We just need warm weather. My propane bill would also appreciate some warm weather. 

Well. that's all the news fit to print. 

 

After the stress of the past week, yesterday was a day for Mark to decompress. We had a quick dinner of asparagus, garlic and goat cheese with a little red pepper flakes over linguine. And we ate before 9:30!

Today we got our second booster shot. The young man administering it said a lot of people have been coming in. This was at Walgreens. I feel hopeful that this will be a further shield against the virus that will allow me to feel more comfortable seeking medical care. We are still wearing the N95s.

It is yet again a rainy day. We have made up for any moisture deficit we came into winter with. Saturday is supposed to be nice, I hope to get out and do something. I'm very limited but I need to do something. I've got Mother Hen Mark hovering over me, I tell him I can judge my own tolerance, he doesn't need to tell me what I shouldn't do, but he does. I don't listen, but sometimes he is right.

The Mother Hen needs to go into town and will pick up fried chicken for dinner, no cooking for me tonight! Sometimes I need a break and today is one of those times. I feel totally unmotivated, the dreariness sure doesn't help. I'm going to start a fire and finish a Netflix series;  Anatomy of a Scandal. I'll find out who is lying.

And How We Do It

Lots of families gathered today and sat at tables laden with Easter bounty.

We had risotto. No complaints from either of us. Tomorrow is the last day to file income taxes and the old guy is tired and stressed. We had dinner at 9:30 so he could work late. I rescheduled an appointment I had for blood draw tomorrow because he has to drive me and he's too busy. I have trouble walking and need to be dropped off at the door, otherwise I could take myself. The lab must be short staffed, I couldn't get a new appointment until the middle of next month. There's nothing to be done about it, Mark didn't need the added stress.

It was cold and snowed this afternoon. It's going to be well below average most of this week and then we are going to warm up. Spring hasn't shown itself here yet.

Two posts in one day. Eating late and not wanting to watch TV, I sat at my desk and ended up here. I guess I gave myself a bonus round.

I Say It's His Birthday

Today my son, my only child. turns forty-eight.

He was a brand new being in this long ago grainy photo. A wonderful kid, fun, inquisitive and precocious. I divorced his biological father when he was two, he has no memory of living in the family made up of the three of us. He knows his bio-dad, that's what he used to call him, mostly after he was eight or nine. The bio was an addict, untrustworthy and unreliable, as one would expect. I married Mark when the boy was seven and he has been considered his dad. I did that right.

He married seven years ago. We were delighted for him, as it seemed that wasn't going to happen. They are the same age and an only marriage for both of them.

The girl in this photo had no idea where life would take her and that bundle, but she tried to be what he needed. It was often a struggle, being a single mother was not easy. In between bio and Mark there was an engagement I broke off, I listened to my wiser-than-my-years gut. One of my smart moments. The boy got a great dad in Mark. 

Forty-eight years...yikes.

I know, not technically a parasite, it doesn't live off a host, but it does invade and take over territory.

 Phlox

So beautiful. So prolific. I have not been managing my gardens for a few years, a variety of reasons account for the neglect. Phlox took over. Grass has also taken hold and killed off most of the iris. My task, when winter eventually leaves us, is to pull the newly sprouting phlox before it kills the surrounding plants in the beds where it has flourished. My back will simply have to take it because I am at my last nerve over my deteriorating flower beds. It's been a long winter, as is apparent from my odd and often rambling thoughts!

Age is making me upset. I always maintained my flower beds, even when I was at the height of my horse business. I kept my exterior space neat and proper, the barn was clean, the horses groomed. Somehow, I lost my mojo. I now have an understanding of my long deceased father. He was a strong and vital person. And then he wasn't. He spent those years of his life angry. I get it. I also know it did him not a whit of good. I need to find a balance between submission and a clenched fist aimed at the universe. I am too much my father's daughter, even down to the uncooperative body. I am going in for some further labs in the never-ending quest for answers. Also like him, never give up.

The sun came out in the last few minutes, an almost unrecognizable sight. I have bread to make, tidying to do and a book to listen to. I plan to make shrimp risotto for dinner. Maybe I will regale the internet with a food photo tomorrow. Oh, boy! Stay tuned....

Ciao bella mia blog world 

Books, Wind and a Clay Pot

I have an app, audiobooks now, which has lots of books priced at $3.99. This was one, published in 2011. I don't know anything about James Garfield, other than he was assassinated within his first year as President. I've just started the book and I think it will be interesting. It is nonfiction. 

I should get a library card and get audio books that way. I have so many on various apps it seems like a waste of space. I like to be read to. I can sit in my chair and listen or I can be busy and still listen. I do not like ebooks. If I'm going to read I hold a real book. Something else a library card would be good for, I don't want anymore books, I am loaded down with them and I'm trying to have less of everything in my waning years.

It's cold and windy today. We had overnight snow and I understand the roads were nearly impassable. The horses are in the barn for a second day, the wind is blowing hard and they get quite agitated and can be a danger to themselves and also to the person handling them. My horses all go in and out of the barn on a lead rope. There are times when prudence is called for. 

I have a large pork roast thawed. I use a clay pot for most roasts and especially pork. It is easy to make a pork roast too dry. Clay pot roasting is a wonder! A soaked pot, moderately high heat and some form of liquid in the pot and it's so tender. I use white wine. I used to love white wine to drink but somewhere along the way it became too acidic for me, but I always have it on hand for cooking. A good white  wine, if it's not worth drinking it's not worth having in the house. That's my motto.

This is Easter weekend for many people. Not for us, we don't Easter, but lots of people do. Whether for religious reasons, family gathering or baskets of candy for the children from that over-worked bunny. Nine times out of ten Easter in Minnesota is snowy, so all those nice spring outfits sort of get lost under warm coats.

I'm having a stream of consciousness. It's rather soothing to write what comes to mind as my fingers tap the keyboard in my unusual hunt & peck style. My coffee cup is empty, it's after 11:00 am and I do have life to attend to. It is a pleasure to write for a bit. I don't know why I enjoy it but I do. And that's enough.

Ciao 

Frieda, Vegan and Eggplant

Make the world go away, take it off my shoulders. Say the things you used to say, and make the world go away.

I think many of us share Frieda's sentiments. I know I do, on several levels. I would like the weather to stop acting like Minnesota. Wind, rain, snow, more rain. I know where I live, but sometimes I feel it's enough already. Frieda loves the spot on the ottoman, with the fire warming the room. If I sit in the living room she bothers me until I move to her comfy place. She has turned me into a mushy hearted cat lady, no doubt about that.

I watched a documentary series on Netflix, "Bad Vegan". You cannot make this stuff up. A very successful restaurateur loses everything in a con that has her buying into a lot of bizarre nonsense. The documenter comments a few times about vegan-ism. I won't go into that. My son became chef at a vegan restaurant a few years ago. A longtime friend went into partnership with another person on the restaurant and was having trouble keeping a chef. The son didn't know vegan cooking but had been a fine dining chef for a long time. He had been Sous Chef for several years to a two time James Beard Award nominee. He knew he could figure it out. I understand why people do this. I have known quite a few vegans, it's their business, but I don't care to be preached at. After a few months he tells me he is now vegan. Not surprised. His wife was a vegetarian and also went vegan. They didn't proselytize to us, so it was their business. The pandemic shutdown came along and the restaurant closed. It didn't take too long for the son to eat meat again, he helped me the last couple of months at my mother's house and picked up food for our lunch every day. His wife is still a staunch vegan and I assume will stay so. It still doesn't affect me, they haven't been here for a holiday or anything else since 2018. I did buy some nutritional yeast and a vegan "cheese" for meatless balls when they planned to be here New Years' Day, but they couldn't come.  I have no I idea how I came to this topic! Other than "Bad Vegan". It is a bizarre tale and vegan plays a role in it. 

I am rambling. I have things to do and seem to be actively avoiding the doing. I have an eggplant gratin I need to prep for tonight's dinner, I'm making it as a side dish. Anything I can do in advance is in my favor. I start to fade as the day goes on. The multiple days in a row of overcast skies isn't helping me, no doubt of that. Tax season ends on Monday, at least the filing does. Then it's finishing the extensions. Mark has later hours right now as the pressure of a timeline looming always does. 

I guess I'll shut the faucet of my mind off and go bake some eggplant slices.

 Ciao Amiche

Coping

I am, or was, a political nerd. I studied European History and Political Science at university. I grew up in a family that I later quipped held the DFL as our religion and the union our god. I volunteered on George McGovern's presidential campaign. My first political action of protest was several walkouts in high school protesting the Vietnam war. I dutifully attended our caucuses and was a district delegate for the DFL several times. This is to give a little background into my deeply held convictions and action. I say this because I have come to a point in my worldview where I have stopped paying attention, or as much as I can. I would like to say it started with Donald Trump. No, it did not. The downfall really got rolling with Ronald Reagan, then Bill Clinton, moved onto Bush II and came to a crescendo with Barack Obama. Trump was a natural conclusion. If natural can in anyway be used in anything Trump. As I see Europe taking a step into authoritarianism and the US teetering on the brink, perhaps a little more than teetering, I think back to history and realize all things seem to come around again. There is something in human beings which has a self-destructive bent. It's like a moth drawn to a flame. We cannot help ourselves. The planet is heating at an accelerated rate and we scream for more oil production. A pandemic happens, a deluded moron talks about drinking bleach and it's treated as another day in the life. We have an insurrection and the Party of Patriots applauds. These same stellar beings have fallen head over heels for Vladimir Putin, the very people of the party of Joseph McCarthy. The same people who decried Sharia Law when a national healthcare system was proposed but cheer the so-called morality laws being enacted across the country. The True Patriots who cannot see democracy eroding right under their noses, who pipe up with "we're not a Democracy, we are a Republic". These people who call me a sheep as they gather gape-jawed in worship of a grifter. Billionaires go into space while their American brethren cannot afford insulin. I have realized I have no control over any of this. It's a steamroller on the history loop. Unfortunately, we are running out of time. If nuclear weapons don't end our future, climate change will. It's the elephant in the room, it may be ignored but it's larger than we are and eventually will walk over us all. 

My coping mechanism is to live my life the best I am able. I tell Mark we drink the wine, eat the food. Plant the garden, pet the animals. Be kind. I have no control over what Vladimir Putin will do. I have control over what I do. My world has narrowed down to this.