A PAIN IN THE NECK…

Literally.  I woke up Wednesday morning with a double whammy:  a crick in my neck and a case of the “goopy eye” that Husband has had for a few days.  Nice.

I couldn’t turn my head to the right or look down.  Also, I had to go get fingerprinted (again) that morning and had a long drive through rush hour traffic to make – in the fog.  The fingerprint story is, well, see for yourself:

I am a Notary Public and have been for some years now.  It’s a convenient service for a law firm to offer to its clients.  My commission expired in July of this year and because of some new legislation, I had to attend a day long seminar to learn all the new no-nos.  It was painful.  These things always are.  But, I passed the test at the end and went off a few days later to get fingerprinted, although I had already been fingerprinted when I first got my commission.  The guy at the fingerprint place gave me the creeps and I didn’t really want him to touch my hands.  Ick.  Anyway, that was the end of July.

Once the FBI and DOJ (Dept of Justice) determine from your fingerprints that you are not a threat or felon or pervert or whatever else they keep track of, you get your new notary commission in the mail and that starts a whole other list of things to do after that.  Swearing in, bonds, etc.  All time consuming and annoying.

So, last Friday when I hadn’t gotten my commission,  I called up the Secretary of State (well, the office part that deals with notaries, not the ACTUAL Secy of State) and was told, OH!  Your fingerprints were rejected because the quality was low – you need to have them done over.  OK, then.  Just when, I wonder, would someone have let me know about that?  I mean, late July to late October is, oh, 3 months.  Whatever.  A new fingerprint form was in the mail with a letter saying why they had to be done over.  Take this form and letter to the people who did the first ones and they have to do them over for free.  Fine.

The form and letter arrive in the mail and I go online and schedule a new appt.  That brings us to Wednesday.  The office is way the hell north of here so I’m not sure how long it will take in rush hour traffic to get there.  I allow myself an hour and a half.  I get there in a little over half an hour.  On the ground floor of the building is a bakery/cafe.  They do all their baking on site and let me tell you at 8:05 am the smells coming out of that place are deadly!  I’m hungry, the place doesn’t open til 8:30 and my appt is for 8:45.  I have breakfast – an egg and veggie scramble.  Not bad, not great and no cheese!

I go upstairs and to the office.  Someone is ahead of me and I wait patiently with my full stomach.  It’s my turn and I hand the same creepy guy who was there before my paperwork.  The dialog that follows is below:

Creepy Guy: I can’t do this.

Me:  Because…….?

Creepy Guy:  It’s a retake.

Me: So?

Creepy Guy:  You have to say that when you schedule the appointment.

Me:  There’s no option to do that online.

Creepy Guy:  You have to call.

At which point I knew if I opened my mouth something or someone would catch fire.  I snatched the paperwork from the desk and huffed out.  Then the line at Starbuck’s was really long.

I spend the day with a pain in my neck, both literally and figuratively because I am NOT going back to Creepy Guy.  My boss says, fine, just find another place.  Fine.

Then, it’s weigh in night at WW.  I’ve gained .4 lbs.  Husband .6.  Phooey.  Lesson:  pee when you get there and then weigh.  And, you probably shouldn’t eat ALL the roasted sweet potatoes at once, even if they are a Core Food.

A heating pad and some soup make the neck better.  Well, the heating pad helps the neck and the soup helps my hurt feelings.  Would have helped even more had I eaten some of the gluten-free cornbread I found at Whole Foods last week.  Of course, that probably had something to do with the .4 lbs.  Love the Obama 30 minute infomercial – makes me cry.  Cry because I’m so happy to have someone that I really WANT to vote for and because I’m terrified that Geezer and Dingbat might pull it off somehow.

Today is Thursday – neck is better – can look right and down tho still a bit tender.  Eye is better because Husband has drops and I used them.  Now to find a fingerprinting place downtown……….

MY, OH MY, I LOVE PIE!

It’s true – I love pie.  This time of year pumpkin pie begins to call to me.  The best thing about Thanksgiving is having left over pumpkin pie.  I can eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and any other time.  I think pumpkin pie is even better for breakfast than chocolate cake!  Anyway, I had a piece last Saturday at Gizdich.  It was slightly undercooked – a bit, well, loose.  Nevertheless, I didn’t send it back to the kitchen – after all, it was the first pumpkin pie of the season. I guess there won’t be so many pieces this year, what with WW and all………or not.  

It’s finally looking like autumn.  At the farmer’s market last Friday, fruits and veggies of the season made their appearance…

persimmons!  When I was a little girl, the family next door to us had a persimmon tree.  Whatever for, I can’t imagine, but the older brothers (there were 7 kids) always tried to trick the little ones (and the next door neighbor) into biting into one.  It only took one try – bitter does not begin to describe the puckering effect these beauties have on your mouth. They do make good cookies – the only way I’ve ever successfully eaten them.  As a grown up, I understand they just have to be really ripe but I’ve only bought them for decoration.  I prefer the deeper orange variety, but these do have a pleasing shape and such cute little leaf hats! Brussels sprouts are grown around here, too, and pomegranates.

 These are not big favorites at my house.  I like them roasted with olive oil and dressed with basalmic vinegar and finishing salt, but the other family members remain unconvinced.

Then, the pomegranate.  It’s beautiful and incredibly messy and makes awesome jelly for those with the fortitude to actually make it.  I like it best when someone gifts me a jar!

Apple butter, however, is my autumn speciality!  First batch of the season and the first batch ever made in Fanny came off the stove last Sunday.

 

4 lbs of newton pippins cooking in apple cider.  They smell so sweet – if you just made applesauce you wouldn’t have to add any sugar at all.

But, we are making apple butter and we must add wonderful and aromatic spices:  cinnamon, cloves and allspice!

 

 

 

 

Now you’re talkin’!  Cait says she can’t leave the house when I’m making apple butter because it just smells too wonderful to leave.  I think for our house, apple butter is the definitive aroma for autumn.  It takes for.ever. but is well worth the wait. The batch is relatively small, but again, worth the effort.

If you want the recipe, let me know!

IN PRAISE OF WEIGHT WATCHERS AND OTHER ASSORTED STUFF

WW has made an honest woman of me:  I am no longer lying on my driver’s license.  About my weight.   Husband is having success, as well.  Hoo Damn Ray!

We are going to Watsonville tomorrow to Gizdich Ranch to buy apples so I can make apple butter.  We typically go a couple of times a year – in the summer to buy freshly picked strawberries (for jam) and an enormous strawberry pie – and in the fall to buy apples (for apple butter) and an enormous apple pie.  The last time we were there, we only had a piece of pie each, but before you congratulate us on our will power, I confess we then went to Betty’s Burgers.  Betty’s has a killer veggie burger on a to die for whole wheat bun…….and if you eat there very often, I’m pretty sure you will surely die from a heart attack – if not on the spot, then soon.  They do offer a bunless option – the salad and the meat without the cheese………yeah, what’s the point?  Anyway, I think Rio del Mar is in the plans for tomorrow after Gizdich.  We haven’t been to the beach since Half Moon Bay in late August.  It’s time.  I’m not making any promises about food this weekend, but I have to say it feels really good when the thighs of your jeans are actually loose, so maybe we’ll be good.

My yoga class was last night.  It was hard and I got sick of down dog and 30 seconds in plank.  Across the parking lot from the gym is a Starbucks.  It is so hard to walk out of the gym and not walk across the lot and straight into the arms of a Signature Hot Chocolate.  And while you’re at it, why not the salted caramel one?  Oh, people, I cannot tell you how wonderful that is!  Anyway, driving home, Starbuck-less, I was listening to NPR and they were talking to a woman who is a producer for them.  She said the program of which she was most proud in her career was during the fall of 2001.  After 9/11 there was such an unrelenting flow of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad news that she decided there needed to be a respite.  She called up all the famous musicians she could find and asked them what piece of music would they like the listening public to hear right now to help them feel better.  They put together a play list, so to speak, and just played them for a few minutes every morning.  As an example, she spoke about a famous pianist named Leon Fleischer (sp?  something like that) who chose Beethoven’s Ode to Joy.  They played a part of it last night and, you know, it was wonderful.  Sitting there in the dark in my driveway looking at a just waning full moon rising next to the very tall redwood across the street, it was inspiring and reassuring.  I might have chosen Clair de Lune or Cannon’s Pachelbel or Rhapsody in Blue, I don’t know.  And a nice warm biscuit with some apple butter.

FEAR AND LOATHING

In the good old US of A.  I don’t think I’m alone in my dismay at the current political climate, and certainly others have and will say it better, but I just think I need to have a say myself.

Husband and I attend our Weight Watchers meetings on Wednesday nights at 6, so we were spared the majority of the last debate.  I turned on the radio on the way home and heard about 10 seconds before I had to switch to the CD mode.  I mean, would you rather listen to John McCain’s fear mongering or David Sedaris relating an exchange with a NY cabbie?  I guess there are those out there would would, but let’s face it, they aren’t reading this blog and aren’t likely to!

During the Great Depression, FDR said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”  A Course in Miracles teaches that there are really only 2 motivating factors:  love and fear.  So, where do you want to come from in your life?  From love or from fear.  No contest for me.  Apparently a vast portion of middle America and the entire Republican party prefers to come screeching at the rest of us from the deepest, darkest part of fear.  I have never heard so much pure nonsense and exaggeration in all my 60 years as I’ve heard in the past few months.

I’m sure you’ve see the clip of the little old white haired lady telling McCain she’s afraid of Obama because he’s, well, an Arab.  Husband and I recently heard a woman on a call in show on NPR say among other absolutely crazy stuff that Obama is really not a citizen and “they” are covering it up.  Seriously?  As the moving finger writes on the wall that it doesn’t look good for the Republicans this year, the desperation mounts and the amount of outright lies and insinuation and mud slinging increases exponentially.  While I believe that there is some reason to question the folks at Acorn who apparently registered the entire defensive line of the Dallas Cowboys to vote, I do not believe as McCain said on Wednesday night that they are about to perpetrate the largest voter fraud ever seen and destroy the fabric of democracy.  I’m pretty sure the title for “Best Voter Fraud” belongs to the state of Florida, but never mind.  And, if registering some dead folks to vote is going to destroy the fabric of American democracy, well, we are in even more trouble than I thought.  Seems like they are setting the scene for another disputed election result should the voter tally be anything other than a Democratic landslide?  Puleeeese.

The last thing the country needs right now is more divisiveness.  I can tell you that when Shrub won again 4 years ago, I was sick.  And it seems with good reason.  And, I’m sick right now.  Sick of the politicians and people who only want to portray anyone who believes differently from them as, “the other.”  We should have all grown out of that in Jr. high, people.  Mean people suck and there’s a great sucking noise coming out of America these days that is ultimately deadly.

So, I have a message for those out there who would agitate and point fingers and foster contention:  we are all connected.  What goes around comes around.  Coming from the dark side and from fear will only lead you into a hell of your own making.

As for me and my house, we’d appreciate it if you would just TRY coming from a place of love and see if you don’t feel better about yourselves.  Before you speak or act, think:  is this about love or about fear?

I’m reading a book called The Heretic’s Daughter – it is set in the time of the Salem witch trials.  The parallels between then and now are chilling.

RETURN TO OZ

Well, return to a little bit of normal might be more accurate.  We’ve been on something of a rollercoaster since 9/23, but I think that today might actually be the end of what was a kind of scary ride.  I don’t talk about Husband’s personal business because primarily, his HIS business.  However, because we are joined at the hip it’s my business, too.  Let’s just say that there was a prescription error made, it caused havoc with Husband’s blood pressure, etc, and we ended up in the ER last Sunday.  We made some progress starting Wed afternoon and today seems much, much better.  In the middle of all this drama was a 5 day trip to TX for me and crazy busy days at work when I returned.  I could hardly breathe or sleep during these days as I tend to project the worst in any circumstance – it’s quiet the talent.

I missed going to the gym for nearly 3 weeks and that didn’t help.  But last night I was able to go to my regular yoga class.  It was both painful and heaven.  I knew I was getting out of shape and expected some serious complaint from my body.  I was not expecting the temper tantrum my arms and hips threw at one point, and can I just say that it’s amazing how quickly your balance skills will leave you.  I was gratified to see that I am still capable of forward fold and pigeon although the one legged balance poses left something to be desired.  Today, Husband and I actually went to the gym together and that was wonderful.  He did 120 crunches without stopping and pitiful me, who has been taking regular pilates classes for 10 months couldn’t hold a candle to that.  What a wimp!

I want to tell you a story.  It’s a true story and it happened to my mother.  My mom is 83, has COPD, heart failure and pretty much destroyed her right shoulder in a fall back in May.  She doesn’t get out of the house much and since Dad died in Feb of 2003, has wondered many times why she is still here.  This story may be a clue. 

My nephew is in the Navy and serves on the USS Enterprise.  Mom calls him now and then.  Awhile back, she dialed his number but reversed a couple of digits.  She got what she believed was his voicemail as the recording was the voice of a young man.  She left a message, something like, “Hi!  It’s Nana.  Give me a call when you can.”  Not long after, she got a call and in the discussion that followed she found that her voicemail had actually reached a young man of 22 named Jeremy who lived in a nearby small Texas town. Mom apologized for the error and he was gracious as could be.  She made the same mistake a few more times, and they began to talk when that happened.  She again apologized but he told her that it was OK, he liked talking to her.  Late last week, she thought of Jeremy and decided to just call and tell him that she was thinking of him and that she hoped he was having a good day.  She called, got his voicemail and left him that sweet message and added that she hoped God would bless him, “real good.”  Early the next week, she opened the newspaper to find his obituary.  She was stunned and in her own tenacious way, tracked down his mother. Mom called Jeremy’s mother to tell her of the conversations she had with Jeremy and to tell her what a thoroughly good person she thought Jeremy to be.  His mother was touched and grateful for the call.  She told mom that Jeremy had epilepsy and that the rest of the family had gone camping over the weekend.  He stayed home and apparently suffered a seizure in the middle of the night, as when they returned home they found him dead in his bed.  Mom doesn’t know if Jeremy ever actually got her voicemail but she believes that he did and that her loving words were meaningful to this young man in the last days of his life.  We never know how we can bless those around us but we can act on the promptings we receive by following through and actually doing them.

I’ve posted this quote before, but it seems appropriate again:  ”Shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.  Things are gonna be much better if you only will.”

CRYBABY

It’s getting cooler.  It’s autumn.  It’s October.  I love autumn and cooler weather and sweaters and wraps.  Except I miss my flip flops.  Yesterday I wore closed toed shoes for the first time since, oh, April or May, and my feet were hot.  They were very soft old leather loafers without backs.  Today,  I’m wearing really old and soft flats.  And they make my heels hurt.  And that makes me cranky.  If it were really cold, I could wear my sheepskin lined Uggs!  Those are awesome little mini-boots.  But it isn’t so I can’t and my feet hurt.  Oh, well.

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE….

the more they stay the same.

I attended the book signing/reading at Kepler’s last night:

Sleep is for the Weak

wearing my “Proud Mom” chapeau.  There was a good deal of discussion about blogs, and it occurred to me that, really, we are no different than early man/woman hunkered around a blazing fire at night telling stories of valor in the hunt and sharing mysteries of the spirits.  The glow from the fire now comes from our laptops or monitors but the stories are really the same.

Storytelling is the oldest art form, available when there is no other media (rocks, paper, walls) and always with us through memory.  When/if memory fails, we have archives! We share our experiences and pass along those of our ancestors and friends and all benefit in the process.  Our world has grown from a small circle huddled for light and warmth around a fire to the edges of the very planet.  And that’s a good thing.  Community sustains us in hard times and applauds us in good times.  We are not alone in our grief and multiply our joys through sharing.

I love to start my day by visiting Paris, Avignon, Portland, Austin and Savage, MN.  I marvel at the talent of artists who post their photographs and watercolors.  I can take a look at my beautiful grandchildren any time I want or check on the progress of my son’s remodel in Portland through the magic of flickr.  Soon, we will have another grandchild to love and enjoy and there better be regular updates on that flickr page!

We are all connected.  So be kind to yourself and those you love (and those you don’t love so much) because karma is alive and well and living in blogs.

Enjoy your weekend.

FLY AWAY HOME

The trip out to TX was something of a tour of the western states.  Leave SJ, arrive San Diego, wait, arrive El Paso, wait, arrive Dallas.  I’ve started flying into Love Field instead of DFW because it’s just too far to Mom’s from DFW.  From Love Field, it’s only about 2 hrs to Mom’s due north.  There is a literal forest of overpasses and columns holding them up in north Dallas.  It’s actually a bit surreal, especially at night.  The farmland that used to stretch from Sherman to Dallas has all but disappeared.

I like to travel and really love to fly.  Part of the fun is watching my fellow travelers.  In the SJ airport I watched a mother and her 14 mo old daughter.  The mom was in her early 30s and obviously well to do. Very slim, expensive jeans, a Petunia Picklebottom diaper bag/backpack, expensive jewelry, etc.  That child was giving her a run for her money and Mom was clearly flustered.  But when she put her down on the floor and commanded her to STAY, I just about laughed out loud.  

I enjoyed the flight, actually, although I would have not minded skipping San Diego and El Paso.  I rented a small car and upon leaving the rental lot learned that Chevrolet still makes a car with crank windows.  It took me and the booth attendant both to finally recognize those funny handles with the round knobs on them.  Fortunately, they still let me have the car.

Dallas has changed drastically since I was a student at SMU and living in the little suburb of Richardson. There is a LOT of money in that town.  And restaurants by the thousands.

My mother lives in the woods on the south shore of Lake Texoma.  Really.  When I arrived at the house about 8:15pm, I got out of the car to collect my bag from the trunk and was struck by a sound from my childhood:  cicadas.  Husband said the first time he heard them, it just confirmed the suspicion that when landing in Dallas he was actually landing on another planet.  That’s actually not far from the truth if you are from northern California – Texas IS another planet.  But, growing up there, you don’t actually know that and you learn to love the racket the cicadas make.  Mother is still plagued by armadillos and gophers and that is of no small concern to her.  Texans take their yards seriously.  She told me she had been out on the front walk in her nightgown at 12:30 am chunking rocks at a baby armadillo the other night.  My dad used to check the yard before he went to bed and if he saw anything, out came the shotgun.  Some sport!  

TV in a household without TiVo is oppressive.  In a little town like Pottsboro, the commercials are 90% homemade and are for car and truck dealerships and furniture stores.  And all the kids and grandkids make special appearances.  Mom’s health is not good, so she watches a lot of TV.  

Reading a small town paper is interesting, as well.  I found an article about a man who lived in a trailer in Laredo near the TX/Mexico border.  One night while out on his property, he returned to find 4 teenage boys aged 11-15 had broken in to steal food.  He beat them up with his gun, sent them out the door and shot one of the point blank in the back.  The boy had Twinkies stuffed in his pockets.  The town was upset that the man was being charged with murder and the jury of his peers acquitted the guy!  I am so happy to have escaped such a place.

Coming home was another tour of the West.  First to San Antonio, then San Diego again.  This time, about an hour out of San Diego, one of the flight attendants walked into a metal drawer she thought she had closed in the front cabin.  It left a big and deep gash on her thigh that bled profusely.  It was an anxious time while the nurse they found on board (no reply to the announcement, Is there a dr on the plane?) managed to stop the bleeding.  When we arrived in San Diego, there was an ambulance and fire truck waiting.  I confess I was so desperate to be home that the thought crossed my mind that I hoped we didn’t land in Phoenix or something.  Then, waiting in San Diego to change planes – hungry and anxious.  I had been calling Husband on the trip and his cell phone would ring the house phone.  Finally, completely exasperated while standing in line to board, I called 611.  AT&T told me he had forwarded his calls.  No, he didn’t.  The operator checked and confirmed no call had been made to change the service and fixed it.  But I still couldn’t reach him until I landed.  I’ve decided not to go away without him again.

I was scheduled to go back to work on Tues, but called my boss and asked for a mental health day.  Instead of working on Tues, I slept late and watched The Martian Child and then Husband and I ran some errands and attended our first Weight Watchers meeting.  I loved the movie, enjoyed being in Costco for the first time in months and months and wonder if I have what it takes to exist on 19 points per day!  No fair – Husband gets 38!  We’ll see.  I’ve got some cooking to do so we can eat without too much thinking.  Made a couple of things tonight and thank goodness, you can eat all the fruit you want and fat free cottage cheese. Which will get old soon, but there are soups and such to be made.  

I know there are things I wanted to say here, but I can’t remember them all – WAIT.  Did you know that TX still has smoking/non-smoking in restaurants?  I was astonished!  I mean, you can’t even smoke in bistros in France anymore!

Well, can’t tell you how good it is to be home and sleep in my own bed with my own Husband who is the best snuggler in the world….among other things.  We’ll have a little birthday party for C this weekend as she turns 24 on Sunday.  Not likely to have much Weight Watcher food there as her favorite dish is a chicken casserole made with cream of chicken and mushroom soups and sour cream and chicken and Stove Top stuffing on top.  Deadly.  But, there will be other fare for the gluten sensitive and there’s always that extra 35 points you get per week!

The fabric for the larger pillows came yesterday, so hopefully I will get the pillows made and get the finishing touches done on The Room.  I need to make Husband a cushion for his new desk chair.  It’s one of those wooden ones with arms that rock back – you know – old fashioned kind of.  I hope there is enough of the butterscotch fabric to do that.

Like Minnie Pearl of olden days, “I’m just so proud to be here.!”  Here.  In my house in California.  With Husband.  And C.  And even Charlie.