Was talking with Lea, a realtor who has been holding various open houses in my cooperative for the past two years, and she warned me about my not having a TV. (No, I'm not selling or buying--she's just a nice neighbor lady whom I've gotten to know.)
"How will you get your news?" she wants to know. Good question.
I get most of mine online--AJ, The Guardian, Truthout, The Nation, LA Times, and many others, and I do scan through newspapers in the public library or at the dentist when I visit there. Besides not watching TV voluntarily--can't escape CNN at the dentist (double torture!!)--I don't listen to the radio, either, but much of PBS, Bill Moyers, and Democracy Now (TV? or radio? I'm not sure) record and repeat broadcasts online--with closed captioning.
I always get the free local weekly newspapers for their local coverage--not just news, but ads and arts schedules. The DC City Paper has great local coverage, and the various Current papers--Georgetown, Downtown, Dupont Circle, et al--have other useful info that's not always available in the bigger rags.
I love magazines, too--especially the New Yorker, and Mother Jones.
Then there's Twitter, which Lea scoffs at. Twitter is one of the "social media," I think--like FaceBook, but I like it because it's like a news early warning system. I don't have to follow program hosts or organizations whose positions on the political spectrum are far removed from mine, but I can at least know what they are saying--often a day or two ahead of the other news coverage. It gives me time to Google around and learn more before the spin hits.
My friend Jim and his wife, Sandy, read the WSJ cover to cover every morning as they have their breakfast/coffee. And I'm sure they listen to the radio when they drive here and there. How about you? How and where do you get your news and information?
.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Workin in the Liberry....
Old age seems to be affecting everything I've previously depended on, not just my health and bank account, but also my lovely Macintosh laptop (or as Sherwood calls it, "tummytop."
My laptop is so old that Apple won't work on it any more, not for love (the warranty contract) nor money (bribery). But thanks to the District of Columbia, which provides for its residents even better than some of the states who actually get to vote in Congress, we have a fabulous library here on 9th and G Sts. NW. The MLK, Jr., library has a new "digital commons," where residents like me can go to use a state of the art iMac or PC if we have bothered to acquire a DC library card! For free!! We have to pay something per copy if we want to print out anything. So far, I haven't.
Today, however, I experienced one of the downsides of using a free, public digital commons: a young person whose sole aim this afternoon appeared to be watching as much of a documentary on
sex as he could. I noticed him because he was sitting at the computer next to mine, rocking his knees or something, and I found it distracting. So I looked over and happened to see the documentary, which was closed captioned. The host of the program was interviewing a young woman from perhaps a Mideastern country--I didn't look that long or that hard to get all the details, but I do remember one quote: The woman said, "The young boys who have just entered puberty here don't have a chance to have sex with any women or girls. The only choice for them is the donkeys."
Donkey sex? That's a new one for me. I know the farm boys in the Midwest often woo cows or sheep. This may not be their first choice, as there just aren't that many donkeys in the Midwest. Not in the areas where I grew up or in which I lived as an adult.
I regret that I wasn't quick enough to smile at the guy when he glanced up and saw me looking possibly incredulous. He seemed a bit sheepish. I could have just laughed and said, "Donkeys??"
Later I was at my friend's house, and she was watching CNN or something. There was a program on about new fashions in pets. It showed a well-dressed New Yorker walking into a convenience store with a small llama on a leash. My friend was not at all fazed. She has an older coonhound who is
probably much older and bigger than the llama. The dog has been to NYC many times in the past two or three years and stays in the hotel, too. Why? "Because he loves to run in Central Park!" I
can imagine my dad's reaction to that bit of info. HIS dogs never even got to come in the house. They had their own kennel outside.
My laptop is so old that Apple won't work on it any more, not for love (the warranty contract) nor money (bribery). But thanks to the District of Columbia, which provides for its residents even better than some of the states who actually get to vote in Congress, we have a fabulous library here on 9th and G Sts. NW. The MLK, Jr., library has a new "digital commons," where residents like me can go to use a state of the art iMac or PC if we have bothered to acquire a DC library card! For free!! We have to pay something per copy if we want to print out anything. So far, I haven't.
Today, however, I experienced one of the downsides of using a free, public digital commons: a young person whose sole aim this afternoon appeared to be watching as much of a documentary on
sex as he could. I noticed him because he was sitting at the computer next to mine, rocking his knees or something, and I found it distracting. So I looked over and happened to see the documentary, which was closed captioned. The host of the program was interviewing a young woman from perhaps a Mideastern country--I didn't look that long or that hard to get all the details, but I do remember one quote: The woman said, "The young boys who have just entered puberty here don't have a chance to have sex with any women or girls. The only choice for them is the donkeys."
Donkey sex? That's a new one for me. I know the farm boys in the Midwest often woo cows or sheep. This may not be their first choice, as there just aren't that many donkeys in the Midwest. Not in the areas where I grew up or in which I lived as an adult.
I regret that I wasn't quick enough to smile at the guy when he glanced up and saw me looking possibly incredulous. He seemed a bit sheepish. I could have just laughed and said, "Donkeys??"
Later I was at my friend's house, and she was watching CNN or something. There was a program on about new fashions in pets. It showed a well-dressed New Yorker walking into a convenience store with a small llama on a leash. My friend was not at all fazed. She has an older coonhound who is
probably much older and bigger than the llama. The dog has been to NYC many times in the past two or three years and stays in the hotel, too. Why? "Because he loves to run in Central Park!" I
can imagine my dad's reaction to that bit of info. HIS dogs never even got to come in the house. They had their own kennel outside.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Friday, September 12, 2014
The People's Climate March?
So...planning to go to NYC to march for the climate? How you gonna get there? Walk? Ride your bike? This issue really bugs me. Why can't we march at home, right where we live? Why do we have to go to NYC?? I'm envisioning all the marcher driving their cars or riding a chartered bus or taking the train to NYC--it all uses fuel. Makes me think of all the virgins in Paris on parade.
Friday, August 29, 2014
"Take Love for Granted"
found this poem on facebook just now, and I want to show it to my readers:
Take Love for Granted
by Jack Ridl
Assume it's in the kitchen,
under the couch, high
in the pine tree out back,
behind the paint cans
in the garage. Don't try
proving your love
is bigger than the Grand
Canyon, the Milky Way,
the urban sprawl of L.A.
Take it for granted. Take it
out with the garbage. Bring
it in with the takeout. Take
it for a walk with the dog.
Wake it every day, say,
"Good morning." Then
make the coffee. Warm
the cups. Don't expect much
of the day. Be glad when
you make it back to bed.
Be glad he threw out that
box of old hats. Be glad
she leaves her shoes
in the hall. Snow will
come. Spring will show up.
Summer will be humid.
The leaves will fall
in the fall. That's more
than you need. We can
love anybody, even
everybody. But you
can love the silence,
sighing and saying to
yourself, "That' s her."
"That's him." Then to
each other, "I know!
Let's go out for breakfast!"
"Take Love for Granted" by Jack Ridl, from Practicing to walk Like a Heron. © Wayne State University Press, 2013. Reprinted with permission
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Monday, August 25, 2014
Lunes-y
It's Monday again. Had fun yesterday. My companion kindly bought me a taxi ride home from Capitol Hill, and the driver took a different route: Capitol North to Blair, and Bob's your uncle! Not a whole lot of traffic, as per the usual routes. It was funny. The driver, who spoke with a heavy accent and was quite solicitous, asked me, Do you know where you live? I said, Well, I did this morning. Not a problem. I was fascinated by the alternative route. The driver passed up many opportunities to turn onto streets I was familiar with and just kept on going. Was home in no time.
So, another question I've posed myself this morning is why did the dinosaurs die? and how? It seems nobody really knows exactly how or why they died (best possible theory--some kind of climate change). But it was not a total disaster, except for the pore dinosaurs. we got birds out of the deal. Much better exchange, IMHO, and would make a much better movie!! Wouldn't it be lovely to
go to a movie these days and listen to previews with glorious bird song instead of dinosaurs roaring?
No gun shots or car crashes, either. Ish.
So, another question I've posed myself this morning is why did the dinosaurs die? and how? It seems nobody really knows exactly how or why they died (best possible theory--some kind of climate change). But it was not a total disaster, except for the pore dinosaurs. we got birds out of the deal. Much better exchange, IMHO, and would make a much better movie!! Wouldn't it be lovely to
go to a movie these days and listen to previews with glorious bird song instead of dinosaurs roaring?
No gun shots or car crashes, either. Ish.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Pals on the Sidewalks
Had a mild stumble today stepping over the bike racks by the Library, and a nice old guy caught me. "Are you OK?" he said? "Remember me? You talked to me two days ago. How's it going?" It was kind of funny, actually. The first time I passed him and his cup two days ago, I said, "All I have is 15 cents, sir...hang on." I went into CVS and bought some nostrum, and my change was $1.01." When I went back out, I told him "I got another penny! It's 16 cents now." (I gave him the dollar, too.) And he smiled and laughed. "Thank you, ma'am."
Monday, August 18, 2014
Fast Forward to Monday....
this apparently is my time to learn a thing or two about "giving" and "helping."
This afternoon I had to go to the DC office for Medicaid. I needed help with the form, and it's so much easier to just go there and talk to them. You sign in, get a number, and wait in line till they call it.
the woman in line ahead of me had three huge bags she was wrangling, one of which was right in my way. So I moved it closer to her.
"You don't touch my bags!" she said. "My mother raised me to be independent, and I am VERY independent!! I went to COLLEGE and got a 4.0!! I don't need any help from anyone!" (So I'm thinking, but not saying, "well, why are you here at the DC office for HELP??") I just smiled, held up my hands, and backed away.
I, of course, was there because I truly needed HELP understanding DC's form, which they sent to me
in the mail. And because I've done this before, I know that showing up and talking to them works better than trying to talk wiht them on the phone! Not just because I'm deaf, but because if we can
resolve everything when i'm right there, all I'll have to do is drop the form in the box by the security officer, and bob's your uncle.
That's what happened again, today. Meanwhile, the independent woman was in the back of the room pointing to various folks in line--"It's no wonder they can't get a job, the way they look!" she didn't notice that some of them were close to tears.
I was very gratified when one of the DC employees in uniform, like a guard?....made her move her bags out of the way so others could approach the helping persons at the desk.
And so it goes. I am totally grateful for all the help I get--from anyone, anywhere.
This afternoon I had to go to the DC office for Medicaid. I needed help with the form, and it's so much easier to just go there and talk to them. You sign in, get a number, and wait in line till they call it.
the woman in line ahead of me had three huge bags she was wrangling, one of which was right in my way. So I moved it closer to her.
"You don't touch my bags!" she said. "My mother raised me to be independent, and I am VERY independent!! I went to COLLEGE and got a 4.0!! I don't need any help from anyone!" (So I'm thinking, but not saying, "well, why are you here at the DC office for HELP??") I just smiled, held up my hands, and backed away.
I, of course, was there because I truly needed HELP understanding DC's form, which they sent to me
in the mail. And because I've done this before, I know that showing up and talking to them works better than trying to talk wiht them on the phone! Not just because I'm deaf, but because if we can
resolve everything when i'm right there, all I'll have to do is drop the form in the box by the security officer, and bob's your uncle.
That's what happened again, today. Meanwhile, the independent woman was in the back of the room pointing to various folks in line--"It's no wonder they can't get a job, the way they look!" she didn't notice that some of them were close to tears.
I was very gratified when one of the DC employees in uniform, like a guard?....made her move her bags out of the way so others could approach the helping persons at the desk.
And so it goes. I am totally grateful for all the help I get--from anyone, anywhere.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Off Hiatus.....
I'm officially not on hiatus now with this blog. Leave it to Lida to boost me back into the fray. The weather has been spectacular here, and daughter Sally & crew stopped by for sandwiches yesterday on their way back from NC. What a good idea....sandwiches! no cooking! almost no cleanup. and
I discovered that Giant in SS has Portuguese rolls. DC here is pretty much a sourdough-only town, but there are oases of Portuguese bread (soft, chewable). Nice to find these rolls. I think I'll keep a dozen in the freezer for future sandwich events.
Other bonus: The NJ gang stayed with friends in NC who have their own farm, and they send some
fresh eggs and fabulous garlic back for me. Many thanks!!!
The Silver Line is up and running now, and articles in the washpost are intriguing. Maybe I'll head out there to see if VA has anything as fabulous as cherry mustard, a new discovery from restaurant week here.
I discovered that Giant in SS has Portuguese rolls. DC here is pretty much a sourdough-only town, but there are oases of Portuguese bread (soft, chewable). Nice to find these rolls. I think I'll keep a dozen in the freezer for future sandwich events.
Other bonus: The NJ gang stayed with friends in NC who have their own farm, and they send some
fresh eggs and fabulous garlic back for me. Many thanks!!!
The Silver Line is up and running now, and articles in the washpost are intriguing. Maybe I'll head out there to see if VA has anything as fabulous as cherry mustard, a new discovery from restaurant week here.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Damn!
I've been thinking today of all the things I didn't ask Lida while she was alive: Who was the first president you voted for? Did you ever smoke? Or chew gum? I know she loved Grand Marnier--she brought me a bottle when I got out of the hospital from having my stents put in. And I brought her one in turn when she recovered from her fall soon after. But we didn't drink much. Just "delicious" stuff like GM.
The Wayback Machine is complaining about all the gadgets and foofraw on my blog. Guess I'll have to dump the crossword puzzle, etc., and simplify simplify simplify if I want to save my posts. It'll be
worth it. Here's another post with photos still intact--from May 2012: a timely repost since it also mentions Lauren Bacall, who died shortly after Lida did this week.
***********************************************************************************
The Wayback Machine is complaining about all the gadgets and foofraw on my blog. Guess I'll have to dump the crossword puzzle, etc., and simplify simplify simplify if I want to save my posts. It'll be
worth it. Here's another post with photos still intact--from May 2012: a timely repost since it also mentions Lauren Bacall, who died shortly after Lida did this week.
***********************************************************************************
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
Old woman, old woman...
This morning I got the photo of Lauren Bacall in a forward that said (approximately) we should think twice now about the movie stars we thought were so beautiful when we and they were younger. "Take a good look now," etc.
I dunno, but two of the most beautiful women I know celebrated their 90th birthdays not long ago. Lida is almost 91 now, and Gert, my sister-in-law, still plays golf!
There was a nasty crack about Ms. Bacall's appearance in the forward, too. It said all the meanness she has been known for shows in her face. That comment was made by a show business person (male) who is said to know. But Leslie Parsley is having none of it. She said she's "always liked Bacall. She is very very liberal." Me, too, Leslie, and I think Bacall looks stunning. LP also said that few women would be as brave as Bacall to have that kind of photo taken, too: b&w and closeup?? Shudder!
Just for the hey of it (and anything to distract me from editing), I took an unsmiling closeup of myself here at my dining/working table this morning. Bacall and the others combed their hair and did makeup. I rarely comb my hair and NEVER wear makeup. Just can't be arsed to do that. But I maintain that old is not ugly. It's just different and rich and wonderful.
Lida Moser, age 90!
Gertrude Elizabeth Mary Peters Dwyer, age 90!
Lauren Bacall (only 87)
XtremeEnglish (only 75)
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Lida Moser, August 17, 1920 - August 11, 2014
Lida Moser died yesterday afternoon at the Hebrew Home in Washington, DC. She was almost 94. Of XE's posts on Lida, only "Darling Lida" still has her image. If I can figure out how to resurrect the other photos, I'll repost those, too.
Darling Lida
Lida Moser, who is 86 years old, entices me out to all sorts of arty events here. On this day, we are visiting the open house at the new Swedish Embassy on the Georgetown waterfront.
Lida is full of wonder at beauty wherever she sees it. "This is fabulous," she's saying in a room full of silver jewelry and utensils made by Swedish artisans. "This is simply marvelous."
She charms everyone she meets, especially other artists (here, with an architect at the Swedish Embassy), with her curiosity and interest in their life and work. She calls people "darling," and they eat it up. (I eat it up. Like Snoopy says, "Nobody calls me 'darling'.")
Lida spent most of her adult life as a photographer in New York City. She worked for Vogue, wrote a photography column for the New York Times, and early on worked as an assistant to Berenice Abbott. Lida is more famous elsewhere than she is here. The National Gallery of Scotland purchased all of her photos of Scottish writers and intellectuals. And the National Gallery of Quebec published her photographs of the province of Quebec. She took these in 1950 while on commission from Vogue to create an illustrated report of Canada from coast to coast.
She has great flair for dressing simply, in rich colors. She has retired from full-time photography, but she has taken up drawing. I met her at the Art Students League in New York City in 1997. She dropped in on a class in anatomical drawing one morning, and she gave me a beautiful smile when she sat down. After class, I stopped by her station to say hello. Her drawings blew me away. They are wild and wonderful. Best of all, she saves her sketches and uses them as stationery. Here is her New Year's greeting from 2005. It's written on a drawing of a dancer she did in October, 2003. I've edited out the part about her ill health then. She was very frail at the beginning of 2005 but has since bounced back.
For a great review of Lida's work by her friend and fellow artist Lenny Campello, check out BlogCritics Magazine.
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Friday, May 30, 2014
Hiatus
Well, lots of you are doing the same thing, kind of. So XE the blog is now on hiatus, and if you
want to see wot I have to say, please go to xtremeenglishxpress.blogspot.com One hopes this works. :)
want to see wot I have to say, please go to xtremeenglishxpress.blogspot.com One hopes this works. :)
Monday, May 26, 2014
Memorial Day 2014
Found this today--from "Ode to Things" by Pablo Neruda:
I love all things,
not because they are
passionate
or sweet-smelling
but because,
I don't know,
because
this ocean is yours,
and mine:
these buttons
and little
forgotten
treasures,
fans upon
whose feathers
love has scattered
its blossoms,
glasses, knives and
scissors--
all bear
the trace
of someone's fingers
on their handle or surface,
the traces of a distant hand
lost
in the depths of forgetfulness.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Doctor visit
Well, the good, excellent news is that I've lost three more pounds since my last visit to my dear PA at the clinic--a total of 6 from last month's escapade at the emergency room, and this makes me no longer overweight!! And my BP is down somewhat. And I'm taking the prescribed pills against my high cholesterol and high anxiety. And I've discovered that drinking unfiltered coffee contributes to high cholesterol (the bad kind). And I've discovered that a diet high in vegetables and fruits makes me feel really good--and drives away the pounds.
Still....I'm remembering my favorite beloved therapist's advice: "a healthy woman feels all her feelings." Surely that must include anxiety, even if the anxiety is a by-product of the polio i had as a child.
I've made my living since my divorce as a proofreader/editor, and I acknowledge that anxiety is a great boon to being an editor & proofreader. Editing and proofreading require sensitivity to words
and the placement of letters and punctuation, not just to what is being expressed, but HOW it's being put down on the page so that it makes greatest sense to readers--it's all anxiety-producing, and heightened sensitivity and anxiety are very useful in that task. I really DO care about the placement of commas and apostrophes and all that. I'm trying to learn not to despise people who can't figure out
it's and its. My family is full of people who look way down their noses on those who don't spell correctly.
So...we'll see how it goes with these pills. I'm in no haste to demolish the good parts of my character, however hazardous to my health. I've found a few exercises that add to my serenity, even if i can't perform them very well: the butterfly yoga pose is one. I didn't realize how stiff my hip joints were. It helps relax to know there are things I can do to alleviate this. So....here's my schedule for the next month or two: selected yoga poses, cooking delicious vegetable dishes, avoiding sausages and hamburger. smiling more, writing thank you notes. hugging, dining with fabulous friends from the past and present (you know who you are!!!).
Happy Memorial Day to those I know and love and just encounter online or on the bus!!
Still....I'm remembering my favorite beloved therapist's advice: "a healthy woman feels all her feelings." Surely that must include anxiety, even if the anxiety is a by-product of the polio i had as a child.
I've made my living since my divorce as a proofreader/editor, and I acknowledge that anxiety is a great boon to being an editor & proofreader. Editing and proofreading require sensitivity to words
and the placement of letters and punctuation, not just to what is being expressed, but HOW it's being put down on the page so that it makes greatest sense to readers--it's all anxiety-producing, and heightened sensitivity and anxiety are very useful in that task. I really DO care about the placement of commas and apostrophes and all that. I'm trying to learn not to despise people who can't figure out
it's and its. My family is full of people who look way down their noses on those who don't spell correctly.
So...we'll see how it goes with these pills. I'm in no haste to demolish the good parts of my character, however hazardous to my health. I've found a few exercises that add to my serenity, even if i can't perform them very well: the butterfly yoga pose is one. I didn't realize how stiff my hip joints were. It helps relax to know there are things I can do to alleviate this. So....here's my schedule for the next month or two: selected yoga poses, cooking delicious vegetable dishes, avoiding sausages and hamburger. smiling more, writing thank you notes. hugging, dining with fabulous friends from the past and present (you know who you are!!!).
Happy Memorial Day to those I know and love and just encounter online or on the bus!!
Sunday, May 18, 2014
report card on personal commendments (see rh side of this page)
1. Keep on Learning--yes, I'm doing that daily!! Grade: A
2. Keep a Dream Board--fail! not doing it at all. Grade: F
3. Walk a Mile a Day every Day--Yup! Grade: A
Average: Grade: B-
Conduct: Polite Grade: A-
Attitude: seems lackadaisical. Grade: C
Effort: Smart enough to do MUCH BETTER Grade: C-
This is pretty close to what I got all during elementary and high school. Not bad enough to cause
trouble (except at home, where I was always in trouble for never doing my homework!!). Hmm..
XE needs to find something she loves to do and do it!!
2. Keep a Dream Board--fail! not doing it at all. Grade: F
3. Walk a Mile a Day every Day--Yup! Grade: A
Average: Grade: B-
Conduct: Polite Grade: A-
Attitude: seems lackadaisical. Grade: C
Effort: Smart enough to do MUCH BETTER Grade: C-
This is pretty close to what I got all during elementary and high school. Not bad enough to cause
trouble (except at home, where I was always in trouble for never doing my homework!!). Hmm..
XE needs to find something she loves to do and do it!!
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Mothers..Now that you've enjoyed the calls and cards, how about facing up to the Republican nonsense?
Here's an article my friend Jim sent me:
Ronald Reagan's Benghazi
07 May 14
ate Saturday night, at the Vanity Fair party celebrating the White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner, Darrell Issa, the Republican congressman from San Diego, California, was chatting amiably with Governor Chris Christie, of New Jersey, leaning in to swap gossip and looking very much at ease in his tuxedo. Issa, who has been the lead inquisitor into what, in shorthand, has come to be known as “Benghazi,” was having a busy weekend. House Speaker John Boehner had just announced a plan for a new special select investigative committee, and, on Friday, Issa had announced that he had issued a subpoena to Secretary of State John Kerry for a new round of hearings devoted to searching, against diminishing odds, for some dirty, dark secret about what really happened in Benghazi.
Ever since militant jihadists killed four Americans, including the U.S. Ambassador, in an attack on a U.S. diplomatic outpost in that remote Libyan town two years ago, House Republicans have kept up a drumbeat of insinuation. They have already devoted thirteen hearings, twenty-five thousand pages of documents, and fifty briefings to the topic, which have turned up nothing unexpected.
Kerry’s predecessor, Hillary Clinton, has already accepted responsibility for the tragedy, and the State Department has issued a critical independent report on diplomatic security, resulting in the dismissal of four employees. If the hearings accomplish nothing else, it seems that they promise to keep the subject on life support at least through the midterm congressional elections, and possibly on through any potential Hillary Clinton Presidential campaign. The word “impeachment” has even been trotted out by Obama opponents in connection with this non-scandal.
Watching Issa silhouetted against the Belle Époque windows of the Italian Ambassador’s residence, which were wide open to a garden bathed in colored spotlights, I found myself thinking about another tragedy, thirty years ago, that played out very differently.
Around dawn on October 23, 1983, I was in Beirut, Lebanon, when a suicide bomber drove a truck laden with the equivalent of twenty-one thousand pounds of TNT into the heart of a U.S. Marine compound, killing two hundred and forty-one servicemen. The U.S. military command, which regarded the Marines’ presence as a non-combative, “peace-keeping mission,” had left a vehicle gate wide open, and ordered the sentries to keep their weapons unloaded. The only real resistance the suicide bomber had encountered was a scrim of concertina wire.
When I arrived on the scene a short while later to report on it for the Wall Street Journal, the Marine barracks were flattened. From beneath the dusty, smoking slabs of collapsed concrete, piteous American voices could be heard, begging for help. Thirteen more American servicemen later died from injuries, making it the single deadliest attack on American Marines since the Battle of Iwo Jima.
Six months earlier, militants had bombed the U.S. embassy in Beirut, too, killing sixty-three more people, including seventeen Americans. Among the dead were seven C.I.A. officers, including the agency’s top analyst in the Middle East, an immensely valuable intelligence asset, and the Beirut station chief.
There were more than enough opportunities to lay blame for the horrific losses at high U.S. officials’ feet. But unlike today’s Congress, congressmen did not talk of impeaching Ronald Reagan, who was then President, nor were any subpoenas sent to cabinet members. This was true even though then, as now, the opposition party controlled the majority in the House. Tip O’Neill, the Democratic Speaker of the House, was no pushover. He, like today’s opposition leaders in the House, demanded an investigation—but a real one, and only one.
Instead of playing it for political points, a House committee undertook a serious investigation into what went wrong at the barracks in Beirut. Two months later, it issued a report finding “very serious errors in judgment” by officers on the ground, as well as responsibility up through the military chain of command, and called for better security measures against terrorism in U.S. government installations throughout the world.In other words, Congress actually undertook a useful investigation and made helpful recommendations. The report’s findings, by the way, were bipartisan. (The Pentagon, too, launched an investigation, issuing a report that was widely accepted by both parties.)
In March of 1984, three months after Congress issued its report, militants struck American officials in Beirut again, this time kidnapping the C.I.A.’s station chief, Bill Buckley. Buckley was tortured and, eventually, murdered. Reagan, who was tormented by a tape of Buckley being tortured, blamed himself. Congress held no public hearings, and pointed fingers at the perpetrators, not at political rivals.
If you compare the costs of the Reagan Administration’s serial security lapses in Beirut to the costs of Benghazi, it’s clear what has really deteriorated in the intervening three decades. It’s not the security of American government personnel working abroad. It’s the behavior of American congressmen at home.
The story in Beirut wasn’t over. In September of 1984, for the third time in eighteen months, jihadists bombed a U.S. government outpost in Beirut yet again. President Reagan acknowledged that the new security precautions that had been advocated by Congress hadn’t yet been implemented at the U.S. embassy annex that had been hit. The problem, the President admitted, was that the repairs hadn’t quite been completed on time. As he put it, “Anyone who’s ever had their kitchen done over knows that it never gets done as soon as you wish it would.” Imagine how Congressman Issa and Fox News would react to a similar explanation from President Obama today.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Rain, rainy, rain.....
Third day of rain in a row. good day to bake brownies, which is wot I am doing. The 1-bowl brownie recipe inside the Bakers Unsweetened Baking Chocolate package is my favorite. Famed Minnesota baker Beatrice Ojakangas has asserted in the past that a good (baking) recipe has only 7 ingredients. This one has 7, though I wound up with 8 because I didn't have 3 raw eggs...just two raw and one hard-boiled (drat!). So I looked for egg substitutes in baking, and found four, all of which I had: 1/3c applesauce, 1/4 c. yogurt, 1/2 mashed banana, and 1/4 cup vegetable oil. I used the applesauce, since I made that a while back, and it's been sitting in a jar in the fridge. The brownies are out of the oven now and cooling on top of the stove. They tested a little undone, but so what? I blame it on the applesauce.
No frosting for this batch.
Happy Wensday, all, rain or not!!
No frosting for this batch.
Happy Wensday, all, rain or not!!
Monday, April 28, 2014
Meanwhile.....
Phantom Planter brings beauty again at Dupont Circle....
I've printed out his letter (in above link) to Metro here:
I've printed out his letter (in above link) to Metro here:
Dear Metro Officials:
As you may not know, after considerable expense of my time and money and at some cost to the peace in our home, I planted over a thousand flowers at the Dupont Circle Metro North Station. Metro ordered me to Stop. If I stop, the flowers may die before they bloom.
I was stunned and saddened by your Fed Ex response that I would face "arrest, fines and imprisonment" if I continued to tend to the thousand flowers I planted at the Dupont Circle Metro North Station.
Your Order that I "cease and desist with this activity immediately" seems a little inappropriate for this situation. The previously abandoned and filthy terraced garden squares had been neglected. They did not appear to be high on your list of priorities, in spite of the considerable efforts Metro expends elsewhere to make their properties attractive.
Out of the goodness of my heart, last Fall I planted over 100 bulbs in the very same neglected garden squares. Months later they bloomed, sharing their joy and beauty with fellow Metro Riders.
This Spring I returned. I weeded and two trash bags were filled with more than 300 discarded cigarette butts, shards of glass, wads of gum, tree branches and assorted fast food restaurant garbage.
But when your representative writes that Metro wants to explore "affordable and sustainable" ways to improve the station's appearance, I wonder what you have in mind and on what time table?
What could be more "affordable" to Metro than an artist who gives away a garden of a thousand flowers? What could be more "sustainable" than an artist who's willing to provide the labor this Summer and Fall to water and care for the garden and then clean up when everything is brown and dead after our First Frost?
Gardening on those terraces is no more physically challenging than hiking on the Billy Goat Trail near Great Falls, MD or Old Rag in Virginia. I respectfully disagree that this performance art piece "endangers not only yourself but the public as well." Nevertheless, I offered to sign a waiver to hold Metro harmless as I recognize your concerns are part of the fear filled society we currently live in. But flowers are nature's way of affirming how beautiful life can be.
During this time when our country faces numerous challenges, it does not makes sense to discourage and delay the creation of something beautiful. Nevertheless, I understand your reluctance and am willing to forgo re-entering the site and installing the whimsical sculptures and trellises for the flowers to climb up and cover.... if I can merely have watering rights.
As a working solution which will create a win win situation for Metro, its riders and the flowers, I propose to stand outside the four foot tall concrete wall that encircles the station and water the flowers from the flat sidewalk that everyone walks on. A local vendor has volunteered to share his truck which can deliver 400 gallons of water at a time.
I have received assistance and moral support from many individuals and organizations. People I don't know have offered heartfelt thanks, notes of appreciation and offers of assistance. A Swiss Embassy official thinks I should "get an award". Someone at the National Gallery of Art understands. The Downtown Cluster of Congregations, the Israeli Embassy, GlobalWaterDances.org, Marylee Hardenbergh, an employee at Razoo.org, Mike Barnes, David Catania's staff, Bob Halligan, Joanne Newhouse, Dan Oran, Leon Wieseltier, Barry Louis Polisar (the person who wrote the theme song to the movie "Juno"), Jackson Carnes of the Dupont Historic Main Street organization, and even a Hollywood Producer so far.
In light of this spontaneous groundswell of support I intend to actively gather support with a petition.
I hope you'll accept a win win solution and allow me watering rights. I do not wish my flowers to die when the inevitable heat returns to Washington.
I am willing to work with you to explore long term solutions to making the Dupont North Station entrance more attractive.
Sincerely,
Henry Docter
The world is not as bad as it is often portrayed in the news. This is an opportunity for all of us to make something beautiful.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Library Day.....
I go to the library almost every day, but today I had a purpose!! To see if Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude that I'd put on hold was waiting for me. No, it wasn't. The MLK Jr. main public library here has 20 copies. It'll be waiting soon.
I checked around a bit, and brought home two books by Mario Vargas Llosa--Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter (one of my all-time favorite novels), and The Time of the Hero--a book that Isabel Allende said got Garcia Marquez started writing fiction. (Actually, she said it was "a first novel published in 1963 by 'a young Peruvian writer, Mario Vargas Llosa," and the closest I could come to that publication date for his books was The Time of the Hero.
It was my day to hit paydirt at the library. Everything I searched for was in and available. And I had great inspiration from Amy Goodman et al. on Democracy Now's interview with Isabel Allende about Garcia Marquez.
I also lugged home (big, fat book) The Collected Stores of Lydia Davis and Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone. The latter was v popular when I was in grad school but I had no time or inclination to
read it then.
I checked around a bit, and brought home two books by Mario Vargas Llosa--Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter (one of my all-time favorite novels), and The Time of the Hero--a book that Isabel Allende said got Garcia Marquez started writing fiction. (Actually, she said it was "a first novel published in 1963 by 'a young Peruvian writer, Mario Vargas Llosa," and the closest I could come to that publication date for his books was The Time of the Hero.
It was my day to hit paydirt at the library. Everything I searched for was in and available. And I had great inspiration from Amy Goodman et al. on Democracy Now's interview with Isabel Allende about Garcia Marquez.
I also lugged home (big, fat book) The Collected Stores of Lydia Davis and Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone. The latter was v popular when I was in grad school but I had no time or inclination to
read it then.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Small flowers on the ground, Arboretum
Among the many wondrous sights on last weekend's trip to the U.S. National Arboretum, I spotted these little flowers growing in the grass.
In the upper left-hand quadrant: whatever they are, they resemble grape hyacinth?
In the lower left-hand quads: tiny little blue & yellow forget-me-nots
I don't know what the tiny flowers are in the upper right-hand quadrant.
Here is a closer look:
This cute little wildflower patch has one forget-me-not peeping out in the URH corner, but I have no idea what this knobby flower is. Cute but mysterious....
In the upper left-hand quadrant: whatever they are, they resemble grape hyacinth?
In the lower left-hand quads: tiny little blue & yellow forget-me-nots
I don't know what the tiny flowers are in the upper right-hand quadrant.
This cute little wildflower patch has one forget-me-not peeping out in the URH corner, but I have no idea what this knobby flower is. Cute but mysterious....
Monday, April 14, 2014
The Rowan Oak at the National Arboretum
On yesterday's tram tour of the U.S. National Arboretum, we passed this magnificent 150-year-old "Rowan Oak." What is a Rowan Oak? It's not William Faulkner's residence (now belonging to the University of Mississippi) and it is not an oak tree. A rowan is a
European Mountain ash or serviceberry tree. The Rowan Oak over time has gathered
mythical properties of protection, strength. According to Norse
mythology, Thor himself was saved from a rushing stream when he grabbed a
root/branch of a rowan tree. Local lore has it that an area American Indian
chief brought all of his warriors to stand next to this tree to absorb
its protection and strength. And Arboretum grounds crews have found
buttons from Civil War uniforms scattered around this tree.
It's hard to find information about this particular tree, and I've been searching for hours, both online and in my tree books. The Latin name includes "Sargenti", after the Botanist who identified it.
 | ||||||
| The Rowan Oak |
Wednesday, April 09, 2014
Welcome to Raving Pundit!
Through happy circumstance yesterday, I discovered a blog by an 87-year-old writer who lives in Kentucky and blogs as The Raving Pundit. I've added The Raving Pundit to the list of "Blogs I love" that runs down the right side of my home page. Her memoir Blue Streak was published last October and details her inspiring life of nonconformity. The "Blue Streak" in the title refers to her beloved bicycle, which she rode around West Louisville as a kid.
Welcome to XE, Raving Pundit!!
Welcome to XE, Raving Pundit!!
Tuesday, April 08, 2014
technology will pick your poems for you!
The uses of technology continue to expand. Got an email from a friend this morning telling me that the Poetry Foundation has a free app--"Poetry" for an android device. You pick two topics, poke it, and whizzz.....you get a list of poems that include these two topics. Something like that, anyway. My "android" device, apparently, doesn't do much of anything except run up a big monthly bill, and I don't have any fun with it. Not even going to try this. Hmph.
What would Emily Dickinson think? And how many of the poems in the lists are by women?
What would Emily Dickinson think? And how many of the poems in the lists are by women?
Monday, April 07, 2014
FAIL!
It doesn't behoove me to believe everything I read in a new cookbook, especially about cooking things I've done before. The late Laurie Colwin, author of More Home Cooking, suggests slow roasting a 3-lb. whole chicken at 250-300F for two hours. She says it will come out "completely moist and juicy, crisp and tender." So i tried that last night, and it was pale and not even close to crispy on the outside. So now I've got it back in the oven at 375F, which is the temperature I've always used for roasting whole chickens, and I must say it smells pretty good with 28 minutes to go and the skin is nice & crispy and a lovely brown color. It has half a lemon inside the cavity, and I'm presuming this will add flavor. But nothing else other than a modest amount of salt in the cavity, too. We'll see. No pictures yet.
reading vs home cooking
I have two great-grandsons, both about a year old. Their "reading" material is far different from their parents' or their grandparents' or great-grandparents' first books. If they pick up a magazine with colored pictures or illustrations, they poke the pictures--repeatedly--wanting them to move or do something other than just lie there. Magazines are like broken tablets to them. (And here's where the generation gap really shows up. Tablet to the older generation is a thin, rectangular, paper pad we got when we started school. We acted on it, it didn't do anything except record our work. The tablets (electronic) the wee ones see first are magical items. One poke of their little fingers, and they change--go from plain text to photographs or music videos.
This morning's WashPost has an interesting article on how reading online is affecting how we read offline.
There doubtless will be an article soon on how cooking (food preparation) is changing in the face of all the technology involved. I predict, though, that cooking and cookbooks are here to stay. In a moment of madness last weekend, I bought an egg salad sandwich and a bottle of green juice from Starbucks. $6!! OY. Cook at home and save big money!! More of us need to economise than can throw money around at restaurants and coffee shops.
This morning's WashPost has an interesting article on how reading online is affecting how we read offline.
There doubtless will be an article soon on how cooking (food preparation) is changing in the face of all the technology involved. I predict, though, that cooking and cookbooks are here to stay. In a moment of madness last weekend, I bought an egg salad sandwich and a bottle of green juice from Starbucks. $6!! OY. Cook at home and save big money!! More of us need to economise than can throw money around at restaurants and coffee shops.
Thursday, April 03, 2014
Home Cooking.....
I think I'm going to get into recipes and home cooking topics big time. So hold your breath, possums.....I'm still thinking on this...
Wednesday, April 02, 2014
New Mayor (so far)
 |
| Photo from City Paper |
Councilmember Muriel Bowser (D) (42%) outpolled Mayor Vincent Gray (D) (32%) in yesterday's DC primary election, although it's not exactly final yet. Yesterday's election was a primary, not the last word. That will come in November's general election, when DC voters will choose between Bowser and At-Large Councilmember David Catania (Ind.), a vote Bowser (and Councilmember/former Mayor Marion Barry) predict she'll win handily.
The field included five other candidates: Councilmember Tommy Wells (D) got about 13% of the vote. Twenty-three-year Council veteran Jack Evans (D) drew 5%, followed by Restaurant Owner Andy Shallal (3%). Candidate Reta Lewis (0.43%) and Councilmember Vincent Orange (2%) each got a few votes. Not all of the wards have finished counting the votes.
Other big news yesterday is that the zoo's panda cub, Bao Bao, got to go outside in his mother's pen.
well, well.....we'll see wot tomorrow brings, eh? a woman mayor in DC?? I wish I had voted for Gray. He's done a good job so far. So wot if he got tons of $$ from Uncle Fred??
Tuesday, April 01, 2014
April Fool's Day
aka "D.C. Election Day." Who will be our next Mayor?
Vincent Gray, present mayor who bought the last election with the help of Jeff "Uncle Fred" Thompson (who confessed all, chapter & verse, last week in a plea bargain after longtime denials)?
Muriel Bowser (squeaky clean)?
Jack Evans (too rich--represents Georgetown)?
My favorite Andy Shallal (owner of Bus Boys & Poets, popular watering hole and progressive cultural venue)? Challenger David Catania (another favorite, but he will not go on the ballot until there's an elected Democratic Party candidate after today)? Reta Lewis (friend of Hillary and tour organizer for Nelson Mandela's last visit)? Tommy Wells--another likeable councilman who so far has stayed out of the pokey (I kind of like him, too)? Vincent Orange, deo forfende?
  |
| Vincent Gray (above) and "Uncle Fred" |
Muriel Bowser (squeaky clean)?
Jack Evans (too rich--represents Georgetown)?
Monday, March 31, 2014
National Tater Day!
National Tater Day is celebrated annually on March 31. [boldface because one of my best friends forever calls me "Tater" because of my love for this vegetable. Well...ok.] I'm pinching this post from an online exercise group to which I belong, and someone noted that today, being March 31, is National Tater Day. Never heard of it.
This day is set aside to celebrate the potato that is loved by almost everyone and provides us with essential vitamins, minerals and fiber. [They kept us Irish alive for many years!--full of Vitamin C!] There are numerous ways to fix and enjoy the potato: Baked – Boiled – Steamed – Roasted – Mashed – Fried – Grilled – Scalloped – French Fries – Cottage Fries – Hash Browns – In Stew – In Soup – Potato Salad – Potato Dumplings – Potato Pancakes – Any Way You Like Them!!
[Personally, there's almost no way of preparing potatoes that I don't love, but my favorites are potato pancakes (will have some for breakfast today) and potato salad . This does not mean I don't adore
mashed potatoes or home fries or escallopped potatoes. But....]
The origin of this day may have had a different meaning, as at the beginning of April each year, there is a celebration of the sweet potato (Tater Day), in part of Kentucky. Sweet potatoes are one of the main cash crops in that area. Tater Day started way back in the early 1840′s with the trading and selling of sweet potatoes. It is the oldest continuous trade day in the United States.
Worldwide, there are more than four thousand potato varieties.
This day is set aside to celebrate the potato that is loved by almost everyone and provides us with essential vitamins, minerals and fiber. [They kept us Irish alive for many years!--full of Vitamin C!] There are numerous ways to fix and enjoy the potato: Baked – Boiled – Steamed – Roasted – Mashed – Fried – Grilled – Scalloped – French Fries – Cottage Fries – Hash Browns – In Stew – In Soup – Potato Salad – Potato Dumplings – Potato Pancakes – Any Way You Like Them!!
[Personally, there's almost no way of preparing potatoes that I don't love, but my favorites are potato pancakes (will have some for breakfast today) and potato salad . This does not mean I don't adore
mashed potatoes or home fries or escallopped potatoes. But....]
The origin of this day may have had a different meaning, as at the beginning of April each year, there is a celebration of the sweet potato (Tater Day), in part of Kentucky. Sweet potatoes are one of the main cash crops in that area. Tater Day started way back in the early 1840′s with the trading and selling of sweet potatoes. It is the oldest continuous trade day in the United States.
Worldwide, there are more than four thousand potato varieties.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Solas Nua's Poetry Blast
Solas Nua (America's Only Contemporary Irish Arts Organization) has a monthly Poetry Blast. This month features Irish poetess Siobhan Campbell.
"Quickthorn"
Don't bring haw into the house at night
or in any month with a red fruit in season
or when starlings bank against the light,
don't bring haw in. Don't give me reason
to think you have hidden haw about you.
Tucked in secret, may its thorn thwart you.
Plucked in blossom, powdered by your thumb,
I will smell it for the hum of haw is long,
its hold is low and lilting. If you bring
haw in, I will know you want me gone
to the fairies and their jilting. I will know
you want me buried in the deep green field
where god knows what is rotting.
"These Women"
These women are no dreamers.
They make happen the full wake,
the kettle hopping, the oven warm.
They take death in hand
And force him to be civil.
In their lighting, the spitting candle calms
And the rosary settles out of irony.
These women are not kind
If you did not iron the sheets you borrowed,
If you bring batch instead of sliced,
What good is that for sandwiches?
These women bar all holds in the
screamed stall of the birthroom.
Instead they ask for the gummed grit
They found for themselves in that
most alone of coupled moments.
These women know how to mash potatoes
so that they charge despair
out of a teenager.
They have followed a father
and a small child on a combine harvester,
not to pick up the pieces of the boy's arm
and bring them to his mother,
but because they felt the call of the back field
like something rotting in the feed shed
before chief rat jumps out.
These women will not pass through
The horse meadow, even on a summer night,
For there they have felt that the world might let us go.
They've seen the consequence of that.
Ironing keeps it at bay
and doing what is right.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Boundaries
Boundaries
The universe does not
revolve around you.
The stars and planets spinning
through the ballroom of space
dance with one another
quite outside of your small life.
You cannot hold gravity
or seasons; even air and water
inevitably evade your grasp.
Why not, then, let go?
You could move through time
like a shark through water,
neither restless or ceasing,
absorbed in and absorbing
the native element.
Why pretend you can do otherwise?
The world comes in at every pore,
mixes in your blood before
breath releases you into
the world again. Did you think
the fragile boundary of your skin
could build a wall?
Listen. Every molecule is humming
its particular pitch.
Of course you are a symphony.
Whose tune do you think
the planets are singing
as they dance?
~ Lynn Ungar ~
The universe does not
revolve around you.
The stars and planets spinning
through the ballroom of space
dance with one another
quite outside of your small life.
You cannot hold gravity
or seasons; even air and water
inevitably evade your grasp.
Why not, then, let go?
You could move through time
like a shark through water,
neither restless or ceasing,
absorbed in and absorbing
the native element.
Why pretend you can do otherwise?
The world comes in at every pore,
mixes in your blood before
breath releases you into
the world again. Did you think
the fragile boundary of your skin
could build a wall?
Listen. Every molecule is humming
its particular pitch.
Of course you are a symphony.
Whose tune do you think
the planets are singing
as they dance?
~ Lynn Ungar ~
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Art, Continued
Spoke too soon. My wonderful artist friend said "Keep 'em! It'd be my pleasure to give them to you if you wanted them." Well, I do want to keep them and I do enjoy them, and I thank her. She is indeed a wonderful artist and a generous person. And I have committed a serious photographic sin by not paying attention to the background. Junk all over--coat, hats, gloves, reusable grocery bags, grandson's photo lacking actual frame (Jack's Uncle George). But here they are--the dark paintings on the two walls. I like 'em!!
Friday, March 14, 2014
Dealing With Artists....
No, this is not about me, although it could be. I never said I wasn't difficult, but there are some who trump me in that category. Long story short: a wonderful painter who doesn't want her paintings back. (I got them from another artist friend with whom she had swapped her paintings for the other artist's ceramic pieces.) She told me to just throw them out, as she no longer had the ceramic pieces, either. However, the paintings are beautiful, and I am going to disobey her instructions. I'll keep them on my walls.
Here, btw, is a young artist whose output has received great honor in his milieu: Jack, my second-oldest great-grandson, aged 11 months and a few days. I love his sweet innocence as he attacks his task.
Here, btw, is a young artist whose output has received great honor in his milieu: Jack, my second-oldest great-grandson, aged 11 months and a few days. I love his sweet innocence as he attacks his task.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Percentages
The past few days, it's been like this around here:
Cooking--20%
Reading about cooking--15%
Eating--10%
Cleaning up 15%
Shopping for groceries 10%
Emailing, other online nonsense 15%
Basking in the smile of great-grandson #2 15%
Cooking--20%
Reading about cooking--15%
Eating--10%
Cleaning up 15%
Shopping for groceries 10%
Emailing, other online nonsense 15%
Basking in the smile of great-grandson #2 15%
Sunday, March 09, 2014
Freelance Cooking.....
I've been trying to buy vegetables and fruits that I can eat with my crumbling teeth. So last week, I bought a big container of chopped berries, pineapple, kiwi, papaya, and whatever. Unlike whole fruits, however, this has to be kept in the fridge until it's used up. So when I take it out to eat some fruit, it's too cold, and I can't chew it. So today I decided to make pudding and put the chopped fruit and berries in it.
Well, I happened upon a package of lemon pudding mix that required only two egg yolks, a bunch of water, and cooking. So I cooked it (endless stirring, etc.), and when it cooled off slightly, I poured most of it into a nice glass bowl in which I had placed most of the fruit.
Then, remembering a recipe for Ile Flottante that came in my recently purchased Barefoot In Paris cookbook. It had a recipe for the meringues that required two egg whites, which I had left over
from making the pudding mix. So....I did that, and then I plopped four meringues on top of the bowl and let it sit some more. And now I've had two full servings of this and am hoping the benefits of the berries and other fruits will make up for the sugar in the pudding and meringues. I also used my silicon pan liner thing in place of the bakers parchment called for in the meringue recipe. It seems to have worked just fine.
And now I'm reading Tamar Adler's An Everlasting Meal and preparing to hike out to get some
fresh leafy, stemmy greens and other veg to prepare for my week's menu, whatever that might turn out to be.
I also have to mention that I had a deep fried hard-boiled egg (called "crispy deviled egg" in the menu) last night, and I really enjoyed it. apparently they boil the eggs, coat them in crumbs, and plunge them in the deep fryer until the crumbs are nicely browned. Then they serve it with a garlic-yogurt sauce with a few sour bits (perhaps chopped capers?).
I had only one, and that was plenty. But eggs will continue to star in my diet for some time. I'm doing this in honor of my new favorite saint, Eleanor Roosevelt, who every night for supper prepared scrambled eggs in a chafing dish at her dining table, whether it was in Albany or Hyde Park or Campobello or New York City or the White House. Mrs. Roosevelt, about whom I've been reading for the past few days, was a remarkable person--dignified, unruffled, generous, thoughtful--sort of an exemplar of all the virtues that have eluded me for lo these many years.
So....This is my Ups and Downs post for Sunday, March 9. Cathy and I went to a wonderful birthday party for one of our dear former coworkers last night, and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. Black women do know how to throw a birthday party. We need to learn how to line dance. There are always new challenges ahead!!!
Well, I happened upon a package of lemon pudding mix that required only two egg yolks, a bunch of water, and cooking. So I cooked it (endless stirring, etc.), and when it cooled off slightly, I poured most of it into a nice glass bowl in which I had placed most of the fruit.
Then, remembering a recipe for Ile Flottante that came in my recently purchased Barefoot In Paris cookbook. It had a recipe for the meringues that required two egg whites, which I had left over
from making the pudding mix. So....I did that, and then I plopped four meringues on top of the bowl and let it sit some more. And now I've had two full servings of this and am hoping the benefits of the berries and other fruits will make up for the sugar in the pudding and meringues. I also used my silicon pan liner thing in place of the bakers parchment called for in the meringue recipe. It seems to have worked just fine.
And now I'm reading Tamar Adler's An Everlasting Meal and preparing to hike out to get some
fresh leafy, stemmy greens and other veg to prepare for my week's menu, whatever that might turn out to be.
I also have to mention that I had a deep fried hard-boiled egg (called "crispy deviled egg" in the menu) last night, and I really enjoyed it. apparently they boil the eggs, coat them in crumbs, and plunge them in the deep fryer until the crumbs are nicely browned. Then they serve it with a garlic-yogurt sauce with a few sour bits (perhaps chopped capers?).
I had only one, and that was plenty. But eggs will continue to star in my diet for some time. I'm doing this in honor of my new favorite saint, Eleanor Roosevelt, who every night for supper prepared scrambled eggs in a chafing dish at her dining table, whether it was in Albany or Hyde Park or Campobello or New York City or the White House. Mrs. Roosevelt, about whom I've been reading for the past few days, was a remarkable person--dignified, unruffled, generous, thoughtful--sort of an exemplar of all the virtues that have eluded me for lo these many years.
So....This is my Ups and Downs post for Sunday, March 9. Cathy and I went to a wonderful birthday party for one of our dear former coworkers last night, and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. Black women do know how to throw a birthday party. We need to learn how to line dance. There are always new challenges ahead!!!
Friday, March 07, 2014
Another reason to love trees!!
http://www.openculture.com/2014/03/listen-to-tree-rings-getting-played-on-a-turntable-and-turned-into-music.html
This is sort of self-explanatory. Which musician does it sound like?
This is sort of self-explanatory. Which musician does it sound like?
Tuesday, March 04, 2014
Elder
Author (nine novels; also nonfiction, plays, movies) Sarah Schulman has a great post on her FaceBook page (photo from there, too) this morning:
Schulman has long been one of my heroes--for her luminous, hilarious writing, her deep kindness, and her brave activism in LGBT causes. Somewhere I have a photo of her that I snapped at an early Dyke March in NYC. So when she announced her status as an Elder this morning, I sat up and took notice.
Confession: I have always found this "elder" stuff kind of hokey. Elder this, elder that. "Elder music," "elder studies." Ugh. Problem is, the term as used so often online refers only to advanced age.* If you're such and such an age, you're an Elder. Sbpflllt! If you enjoy any music or do any studying in your dotage, that doesn't make the music or the studies "elder."
Elder does mean anyone older than you....like a parent or older sibling or an ancestor or forebear. Elder also can be a verb meaning to "act like a big brother or sister." My personal elders were very fond of this interpretation, and they eldered all the time. "Respect your elders," they used to say (often followed by a punch on the arm).
Among Native Americans, Elder also has a tribal meaning: a wise person who is a "repository of cultural and philosophical knowledge and...the transmitter of such information" [Medicine, Dr. Beatrice (2001). "My Elders Tell Me", Learning to Be an Anthropologist & Remaining 'Native': Selected Writings, p.73. ISBN 0-252-06979-X.]
Churches also have Elders: Those who help the minister handle the business of the parish. My neighbor is a Deaconess in her church, and that's an elder of sorts.
I'm guessing that Schulman is taking the tribal meaning here when she says she is now officially an Elder. She is definitely a repository of cultural and philosophical knowledge, and she definitely is a transmitter thereof. And I have long respected her for this, looked up to her, been amazed and thankful that she remembered who I was the last time I saw her in D.C. years ago. All hail, Elder Schulman! Go for it!!
*well, that's some of what the dictionary says.
"I now declare myself officially an ELDER. Do not fuck with me. Thank you."
Confession: I have always found this "elder" stuff kind of hokey. Elder this, elder that. "Elder music," "elder studies." Ugh. Problem is, the term as used so often online refers only to advanced age.* If you're such and such an age, you're an Elder. Sbpflllt! If you enjoy any music or do any studying in your dotage, that doesn't make the music or the studies "elder."
Elder does mean anyone older than you....like a parent or older sibling or an ancestor or forebear. Elder also can be a verb meaning to "act like a big brother or sister." My personal elders were very fond of this interpretation, and they eldered all the time. "Respect your elders," they used to say (often followed by a punch on the arm).
Among Native Americans, Elder also has a tribal meaning: a wise person who is a "repository of cultural and philosophical knowledge and...the transmitter of such information" [Medicine, Dr. Beatrice (2001). "My Elders Tell Me", Learning to Be an Anthropologist & Remaining 'Native': Selected Writings, p.73. ISBN 0-252-06979-X.]
Churches also have Elders: Those who help the minister handle the business of the parish. My neighbor is a Deaconess in her church, and that's an elder of sorts.
I'm guessing that Schulman is taking the tribal meaning here when she says she is now officially an Elder. She is definitely a repository of cultural and philosophical knowledge, and she definitely is a transmitter thereof. And I have long respected her for this, looked up to her, been amazed and thankful that she remembered who I was the last time I saw her in D.C. years ago. All hail, Elder Schulman! Go for it!!
*well, that's some of what the dictionary says.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Adorable!!
Can these two get any cuter? I also love hearing their mommas' accents: Jack's mum is Scottish, Lennox's mum is Chicagoan. Great-grandma also is learning new tricks--how to post a videoclip on blogger. Problem is, both g-g and her laptop are ancient. I've got lots more of these clips. Be prepared....
Top, Jack trying to get a striped sock on his foot.
Below, Lennox giggling for/at his momma.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Liberatrice!!
This lovely statue of Jeanne d'Arc sits in the park on Meridian Hill in NW DC. Saturday was the first day I'd ever been in that park. As the front of the statue says, the statue was a gift "from the women of France to the women of Ameria." The year of their donation was 1922. I was amazed that such a lovely, meaningful gift has been virtually hidden away--far from the National Mall and the places where tourists hang out. Many people visit this park, but when I first arrived here, the park had the reputation of being a drug dealers hangout, so I stayed out and away. Recently, however, it has been "cleaned up," and the dealers banished, or so they say. Anyway, it's an enchanting place...you can walk on paths through the woods below the top of the hill, or you can walk up on top and observe the frisbee competitions and football tossing among the young. Or listen to the drum circle music played by various small groups every Sunday afternoon. If you enter at the corner of Euclid and 16th Sts. NW, at the NW corner of the park, you will have a gentle slope to climb. Yesterday, I took the bus from downtown and entered an the corner of 16th and W Sts NW. Whoa! What a perspective! flights and flights of stairs leading up to the top of the park where the Jeanne d'Arc statue sits.
Here's more info from Wikipedia:
"The piece was first proposed in May 1916 by Mme Polifème to the Commission of Fine Arts in order to celebrate the friendship between France and the United States. During its creation, DuBois worked closely with the French Minister of Education and Fine Arts in producing a credible representation of the peasant girl.[5]"
"The statue was completed in 1922 in Paris; the original is located in Reims, France in front of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. The replica in Washington was donated by Le Lyceum Société des Femmes de France to the women of the United States of America."
Here's what else it says:
"According to the National Commission of Fine Art it was described, at the time, as being "regarded by artists as the finest equestrian statue of modern times."[5] Henry Bacon wrote that "[Paul] Dubois's statue of Jeanne D'Arc is one of the fine things of the world and no setting is too good for it."[7]
"It is the only equestrian statue of a woman in Washington, D.C."
who was the sculptor? http://www.rugusavay.com/who-is-paul-dubois/
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The photos are a part of the Lida that I don't see. When you are with her, the force of her personality subs for her physical presence and you think she is 19.
Thank you for this...
Katrina
Laweez
went to paris with you; enjoyed the trip. have you seen postings by claude at blogging in paris?
your reflections on aging moved and pleased me. thanks for it all. yours, naomi
Thank you! And what a treat to discover your blog, which I'll read tomorrow when I'm not stuffed full of Christmas turkey. Did you get to see Alice Neel's painting of Lida in the Women's Museum in DC this past year?