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 ~

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!!

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.

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%

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!!!

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?  

Elder

Author (nine novels; also nonfiction, plays, movies) Sarah Schulman has a great post on her FaceBook page (photo from there, too) this morning:

"I now declare myself officially an ELDER. Do not fuck with me. Thank you."

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.  

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.  

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. 

(My own photos forthcoming, but I need to get down there and take them. I was too busy hoping I  would not conk out on the climb yesterday.)  And as you might imagine, any place that serves as a gathering spot for the young and hip (many of whom appear to be students at Howard, Georgetown, and George Washington Universities not far away) would be scented by the smoke of funny tobacco, now that Mary Jane has been decriminalized in DC.  It was.  Still, it was a glorious place, with young people, dogs on leashes, drumming, and peaceful vistas.  I can't believe I've lived in this city for 22 years and never set foot in it. And I was enchanted by the gift of this lovely statue from the women in France to we women in America.  Merci beaucoup, mesdames!

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/

Grassroots winter dinners.....

I made New England Boiled Dinner tonight (substituting a slice of ham for corned beef as in the original recipe):  slice of ham, head of cabbage, half a dozen carrots peeled & sliced, three large potatoes peeled and sliced, one big onion peeled & quartered.  big pot of boiling water, bay leaf, 2 T salt, a generous grinding of black pepper, 5-10 juniper berries (couldn't find the whole allspice).  I think all that cabbage and other veggies puts my daily consumption of veg & fruits at 6 cups today.  I love this dinner.  Reminds me of home.  Especially my in-laws' home.  Julia, my m-i-l used to make it with the hambone & remaining meat and juices after every time she'd cook a ham.  Sort of like Irish leftovers.  The guys ate all the ham, too.  OK with me.  I love the cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and onions with a good knob of butter on them.

It wasn't snowing or raining when I got home tonight, but the 7-day forecast says it's going to rain and sleet tonight.  I'm refraining from saying ISH.  I'm just glad I don't have to go out any more today.  One thing I've noticed lately about getting older in this icy weather we've been having is how exhausting it is to think of all the places I used to be able to go.  I passed the dance school on 14th street, and remembered going there and feeling TIRED just thinking of walking there.  I still go out every day to the library or the grocery store, Kramerbooks, or to visit friends--except in this very frigid, icy weather we've been having.  Walking is not easy when you have to watch where you place every step.  Can't get a good rhythm or pace.  As Eric Shansby's illustration in Sunday's "Below the Beltway" column by Gene Weingarten advises: "Precede with caution."

Car Trouble....

Hattie's Web has a nifty post today.  She needs a new battery for her car,  the Freudian is out of town, and Walmart doesn't carry one for her very old car, which somehow leads her to making a typically hattiean observation on why people blog: to provide a back door into their lives.  Ok, Hattie....I'm walking right through that back door.

When I had a car, I also had battery trouble (semi-annually, it seemed), but the worst time was when I bought a replacement battery from the hardware store in our little Iowa town.  The owner said his young clerk could install it for me, and off I went half an hour later feeling very warm about living in a friendly place like that where kids could fix cars!  A day later, I was driving the 13-mile shortcut to work over the back roads, when my car started sputtering.  I pulled over, went around the back (it was a Karmann Ghia) and opened the back lid--and saw that the brand new battery was ON FIRE!  Yes, it
was burning merrily and giving off that stinky black smoke you get when plastic burns.  I tossed a few handfuls of roadside sand on the battery and slammed the lid.  Well, now what?  Nothing.  I was standing there in my weenie panty hose, heels, a women's bidness suit, and holding a briefcase.  One of the women who drove past without stopping when I tried to thumb a ride was from our town--some kind of interior decorator.  (Warm feelings about small town life chilling rapidly).  Then an old Chevy, probably from the mid-60s, stopped, and two guys hollered "Need a lift?"  I got in the back seat and as the door closed, I could smell alcohol on their breath--enough to stun a housecat.  They were unemployed plumbers, and they insisted on driving me right to the front door of my work place.  Well, lesson learned about small town life:  women of a certain age are afraid to stop on the highway, even for another woman.  But the drunks will stop every time.

Long story short, after I got to my office, I called Bill, the local gas station owner, and asked him to come pick up my car with his tow truck.  Bill told me later that the kid who installed the battery had not tightened the straps sufficiently, and that the battery had slid so that a post hit the metal strap and threw sparks, which ignited the plastic battery case. And so on. 

Carry Out/On -- Update

New York City's famous Shake Shack has an outlet here now (at least one, probably more).  When you pay for an order (not just burgers, but their frozen custard is fabulous) to go, they ask for your first name.  My first name, Mary, is something of a family heirloom:  mother, aunt, great-grandmother all donated their names to me.  And it's a very common (frequently encountered) name.  So I'm tempted to say "Beyonce" to see what they do.  Shake their heads, roll their eyes, laugh, smile.  Next time.

UPDATE:

Well, I did it.  I used my cousin's name (Alice) when I went to pick up a burger from Shake Shack. As noted in original post above, I have been thinking of using a different name just for fun. Originally, I had picked "Beyonce," but at the last minute, I thought of my cousin Alice who just died earlier this month, and that my mom was going to call me Alice, too, (actually Alicia for both) but she was overruled by my dad and four brothers (the name I wound up with was Mary Ellen--same as their favorite baby sitter's) so I said Alice when they asked and then waited to see what the experience of answering to another name would be like. Well, they also give you one of those light stick things that flash when your order is ready. So....I saw the girl pick up what looked like my order and bring it to the counter. she said "Alice," but it didn't sound like that. We always say "ALiss," but she said "ahLEES." If I hadn't had all that experience lip reading, I might have missed it--the light stick went off a second or two after she said my name. You can call me Al.

Still Here, New Name!

My longtime blogger pal, a sparkplug from Ohio (no, not Boehner!  he's not a sparkplug, he's just a dud), has changed the name of her blog from "Kay's Thinking Cap" to Kay Dennison Skelly.  She has a lovely new format but the same gentle humor.  I'm keeping Kay's Thinking Cap for a while in my list of "Blogs I Love," but if you click on the link, you'll get the new version!!  Pay her a visit, why don't you??  She's talking about snow, wouldn't you know....and Miss Ruby, and her lovely neighbors.  Hey, there, Kay!  So glad you have not abandoned us!!

This is Stinking Politics!

Reading over the news and blogs today, I was aghast to see this in Daily Kos.  Is this some kind of cruel joke?  Cut off the food stamps only in states who voted for Obama?  What idiocy.  Click the link to see the whole post.

The following states will bear the overwhelming burden of food stamp cuts: California, Connecticut, Delaware, District of Columbia, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, Montana, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Vermont, Washington & Wisconsin.

Who Gets All This Money???

We read that the Koch Brothers and other billionnaires have dumped million$ into the coffers of those (e.g., Karl Rove) promoting "conservative" candidates for state and local elections.  As a result of all this red money, in states where progressive candidates had been until recently leading the conservative candidates (like N. Carolina, Colorado, Minnesota), the "fund-raising" letters and emails all start out much the same:  "Please chip/pitch in $XX before midnight tonight/tomorrow...or the Senate will go Republican."

Sign a petition in support of a progressive cause (helpfully sent out by FLOTUS, POTUS, Nancy Pelosi, Al Franken, Alan Grayson) and you get an instant thank-you, at the bottom which are small icons for Visa, MasterCard, PayPal so you can segue right into making a contribution ("every dollar matched," etc.).

Well, somebody's getting rich off this.  Who is raking in all of these many dollars, not just from the gazillionaires but also from old grannies on SS like me, who are sending their $3 every month/week/(day? nah, we don't have that kind of money to send it every day--though they ask us daily-- especially not right after Christmas.) 

Unless I miss my guess, the people on the receiving end of this flood are the media moguls:  FOX, CNN, ABC, CBS, MSNBC, NYT, WSJ, WashPost.  Aren't these the same people who benefit from running the "corporations=people" outfits?  Shouldn't this be illegal??  I thought buying an election WAS illegal.  If it happens anywhere else in the world, it is.

from Juan Cole: Top Ten Ways GOP Could Avoid "War On Women" Label

Link: http://www.juancole.com/2014/01/avoid-women-label.html

----
"(By Juan Cole) Mike Huckabee objects to the charge that the Republican Party is waging a war on women. The GOP obviously is increasingly a party of angry white men. It suffers…"(please click the link above to continue reading)

T'other day, XE was riding the metro to Dupont Circle, and a bunch of white men got on at the CUA stop.  They all wore bright red knit hats with the letter N.  I asked one of them what the N stood for, and he said "Nebraska."  I said, "Oh....I was born in Nebraska!"  He motioned to another guy "She was born in Nebraska."  He asked me, "Where do you live now?"  I said, "Here."  Looking a big incredulous, he said "Do you like it?"  "Love it," I said.  He shook his head and scooped a big handful of Peanut M&Ms, peanuts, and other snacks out a big plastic ziplock bag and proceded to stuff them in his mouth and chew them with his mouth open.  Each of the guys with red hats had a big bagful of these highly portable snacks.  As they stuffed the goodies in their mouths, lots fell onto the carpet of the metro car.  They stomped unthinkingly on the spilled peanuts, then got off at their stop.  They were going to a "Right to Life" march somewhere in DC. 

Sorry, guys....but if you come to OUR town and spill your snacks on OUR METRO, you should have the courtesy to pick up after yourselves.  We have a right to our life, too, and it'd be nice if you respected it. 



"

UPs and DOWNs

One of XE's favorite readers said she missed my UPs and DOWNs posts.  She likes being able to read about what other people like and dislike about their days.  OK.

UP!
1.  I still have my mother's silverware, and I'm using it now.  It's been sitting in my cupboard for years.  I tried to give it away to a couple of my offspring, but one didn't like the pattern, and t'other didn't want to haul it across and pay duties on it.  Well, now i'm using it and really enjoying it.  I love the weight of it--the heft--and the balance (can't remember using flatware with such user friendliness for a long time.)  It's all polished, too.  Guess I'll have to bake a cake soon, since there's a sterling silver cake server, of all weird things.  There's also a small carving set, the knife blade of which is stainless steel, which means it'll be good for carving butter when it's time for the State Fair (which DC doesn't have, I don't think).  But maybe it'll be perfect for slicing up a meatloaf, which graces the table here at Chez XE rather regularly. All in all, it's nice.

2.  I had poutine for lunch today at Biddy's (former name for the restaurant at the Dupont Circle Hotel).  It's a Canadian specialty, and a perfect dish for a very cold day:  french fries, cheese curds, and gravy.  Biddy's version has gruyere cheese curds, and the gravy is left over from their roast beef with little bits of roast beef mixed in.  Just love it.  Whoever put this together is a genius!!

3.   Went to the dentist this morning, and I didn't die.  I like my new dentist, too.  He's a cutie and seems quite competent.

DOWN:
1.  The reason I polished the silver, etc., is because I was thinking of selling it.  I really have never used it, and I could use the space even more than the $.  Alas, due to many factors--beginning with the Hunt Brothers' failed attempt to corner the world's silver market years ago that eventually resulted in modern young people's lack of interest in registering for silver when they get married and having formal dinners afterwards--used sterling flatware, even if it's "never used," and not part of a giant, complete set (12 place settings with all the odd spoons, etc.) is now worth just what the silver content would bring.  In this case, that would be not enough to put in your eye.  So, I'm using it.

2.   Few people shovel their sidewalks here when it snows, and it's doggoned slippery to walk!  A friend's 87-year-old mother fell and broke her pelvis.  Ouch!!   Let us all also pause to remember Katherine Graham, former publisher of the Washington Post, who fell on the sidewalk and hit her head in Boise, Idaho, in July, 2001.  No ice involved.  Within a few days, she was dead and buried in the cemetery across the street from her Georgetown house.  Those falls are killers!  May she rest in peace, along with Richard M. Nixon, JFK, LBJ, and other DC political folk with whom her newspaper interacted. 

3.  It's gonna be a little warmer here tomorrow (maybe in the 30s), but that also means we'll get
more snow, probably.  It always warms up to snow. 

The Book

Thanks to Jim Feeney for forwarding this.  I love it, and I've often thought many of the same things.

Michaelangelo's grocery list

Michelangelo used to send his assistants out to do shopping for his meals.  Here's one for a meal of fish, bread, wine, and greens.  It reminds me of how I can afford to shop at Whole Foods:  stay on the perimeter of the store. On entering the P Street store, I walk through the produce and usually pick up 1 apple, 1 orange, 4 Roma tomatoes, 1 onion, 2-3 potatoes, and one bunch of any good-looking greens:  kale, arugula, lettuce, then i turn left and buy fish or sausage, then eggs & butter & 1 small bottle of milk (for baking, adding to my coffee, etc.) At the far corner, I buy one loaf of bread, then turn left and head for the checkouts.    This varies, of course, but usually I can escape with a bag of groceries for less than $25.  That'll hold me for a few days.  If I need trash bags, I go to the bodegas on Rhode Island Ave NE, then walk up the hill to Glut Coop for dried herbs in bulk.  CVS always has a good price on TP and espresso coffee (2 pkgs for $6).  Michelangelo I'm not, but I like his shopping list!  Thanks be he drew pictures, too!!

Thanks to Open Culture for this intriguing bit of history and culture.

Discussion topic too grim? Read this:

Belgian Waffle writes on style rules for those women who are turning 40.  That's way young for XE's audience (yes, you five!), but still funny.  We do, after all, carry all our earlier ages within us.  I think Waffle's rule on stains is excellent, and I totally agree with the one on the dog as one's best fashion accessory. To wit:

Most dogs come in flattering, warm, go-with-everything neutrals. Also, once you have a dog, no one will look at you again, except as a sort of adjunct to your pet. This is very comforting.

 And no, I don't have a dog.  They're not allowed in our coop, with one exception allowed because the owner needs the dog for emotional support.  She also has a live-in dogwalker.  That's too much company, if you ask me.