Oops, Now What

I can't believe I read the whole thing! Yet, since my last post, I have read all of Louise Penny's mystery series. There are 5 all together and after reading the last one first, I hungrily dashed through the other 4. And now it's over. Please, Ms. Penny, please, please, please, write the next one soon.

I was listening to one of them while in bed on the 24th. It was very cold for South Pasadena, I think in the 50's. I kept debating about what I should be doing instead of being warm and listening. Then the reader talked about making split pea soup with a ham bone. That got me out of bed. I was at the counter of the Honey Baked Ham store in no time. I bought the smallest ham they had, honest. It was 11 pounds. For two people. Tsk. To make matters worse, I bought a smoked turkey breast because I started to think about how much I miss turkey. Tsk.

Thank goodness for the freezer. The ham bone, much of the ham and most of the turkey are tucked away for future use. The big plan now is to make red beans and rice for New Years with that ham bone. It's supposed to bring you good luck. And don't we need some of that?

Actually, I've been doing fairly well on the luck side of things. I started jury duty on the 28th and didn't have to go in for the first two days. We'll see if my luck holds for the last two days. I'm not sure how many trials start the day before New Year's Eve and on New Year's Eve. I'm guessing not many, but you never know about those lawyers.

I also found time to finish The Brothers Bulger. I didn't know that Howie Carr was some conservative talk show host from Boston. But I'd already paid the money to him, so I decided that I might as well read it. Not bad, but not very interesting either. I guess it would mean a lot more if you actually lived in Boston. The story takes place from the late 70's to the early 90's. What I learned was that the FBI was terribly corrupt in that area. In order to get rid of the mafia, they turned a blind eye on their Irish snitches. One of those was Whitey Bulger. The other brother was the president of the state senate. I totally believe the part about giving jobs to everybody and their dog and retiring with a huge pension. What I really didn't care for was the run down of every little action the brothers took. Boring.

Not boring was When you are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. He reads this series of random stories. For once, I'm glad to hear the author speak. He does have a little whiny voice that might be irritating, but it is droll. His observations are hilarious. I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy the last few segments of the book about quiting smoking, but I did. He and his partner move to Tokyo so he can do this. Like all his stories, the main topic is not what the story is about. Or it is, but there are 50 other main topics thrown in. His inability to learn Japanese, Japanese customs, lots of stuff.

When he is in the Japanese class he tries to learn how to obfuscate. The Japanese people are far less direct than Americans, so learning how to say something without really saying it is quite a knack. While reading about this, I kept thinking about the last time I was on jury duty. A couple of Japanese tourists were mugged by a local hoodlum and the police went to Japan to get an ID. The other members of the jury couldn't figure out why the victims didn't say absolutely that the picture they selected was absolutely the doer of the deed. Culturally, it was never going to happen. And I was never going to convince the other jurors of that fact. So maybe it's better that they don't call me in this time.

A Christmas Gift

Let me be the first to admit that I am not a voluntary Christmas celebrant. This is the one bad thing that I will lay at the feet of The Times. For more years than you can imagine I had to work on holidays. This means that Adrian had to be prepared for Santa to show up on any door step where he might find himself. Santa might come days early or late. Poor child must have guessed something was afoot before he could really start believing in the magic.

When I got out from under the yoke (misspelled as yolk. I can't get that image out of my mind, so I thought I'd put it into everyone else's mind) of work, I would spend Christmas with Mom and Dad and then Mom alone. We didn't have any traditions to disrupt (thank you, Times) so we kept them company. I remember one strange Christmas spent on the Queen Mary. Actually, that was pretty interesting, but Mom was becoming a little more unsure of life by that time.

And now it's just the two of us, so we are spending the time in our undecorated apartment doing what we do best, cooking up a storm. And reading. I just got the most wonderful present, a new mystery series. I read the last book in the series first, A Brutal Telling. It is set in a village south of Montreal, just above the Vermont border. The plot is intricate. People are complex. Fabulously written. My only warning is that you should really start at the beginning. I am now reading the first in the series. I have the second waiting on my iPod. The only danger I see here is that I may read them too fast and get to the end of the short series before she plops out a new book. That would be sad because I know I will be sad when that happens. Until then, I will just enjoy an expected Christmas present.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good read.

Four Queens and a King

The province of Provence once had a family with four daughters who became queens of England, France, Sicily and Germany. Four Queens is about their lives and how they came to power. This is also the story of four sisters so you know there is a fair amount of back stabbing and intrigue. Even when you have a favorite sister, there is still the other two to contend with. It's a somewhat dry book, but I learned a lot about the age. Their father and mother kept a very enlightened house, teaching all four girls to read in an age when most boys did not have that advantage. There were troubadours and poets. It's a shame that they had to leave that to live with mean mothers-in-law and political intrigue.

If you bought 4 books Audible gave you $10.00 toward a future purchase. I didn't want to get sucked into spending even more money because if what I was saving, I decided to buy a book that cost less than the $10. The Abominable Man was a nice Swedish police procedural that fit the bill. The protagonist is Martin Beck. I think I worked with him at The Times. Hopefully a different person, because this Beck is a little dour. So I had a good read and still have $.24 to spend. Cool.

I continue to be the never ending baking machine. Never ending to the point that I ran out of flour. Adrian remedied that problem, but in the meantime I'd found this recipe using cake flour. It only uses 1/4 c. + 1 T. so I hardly dented the new box of cake flour. I found the recipe on a blog called Chocolate Shavings (ourchocolateshavings.blogspot.com). I have no idea how I found that, but these are amazingly good. We did not have them with the ganache so ours were much healthier.

As soon as I got these out of the oven, Adrian made a deep dish pizza from scratch. He is amazing. I don't like deep dish pizza, but I loved this. I did get a picture, but haven't down loaded it yet. Next time he visits you, be sure to ask him to fix this. He is definitely the king in this story.

Chocolate Pear Cakes
Serves 2

1/2 stick of butter
2 tablespoons of lightly packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon of cake flour
1 good pinch of kosher salt
1 tablespoon of cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon of baking powder
1 tablespoon of milk
2 pears

Preheat your oven to 350F. Add the softened butter and sugar to a medium-size mixing bowl. Using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (about 3 minutes). Add the egg and beat until just incorporated. Using a small whisk, whisk in the vanilla extract. In a separate bowl, mix the flour, baking powder, salt and cocoa powder. Add the flour mixture to the butter batter in small batches, whisking the mixture until homogeneous. Whisk in the milk.

Peel the pears making sure to leave the steam intact. Using a small knife or melon baller, carefully scoop out the core of the pear leaving the pear intact. Ladle the batter evenly into 2 individual ramekins. Form a well in the middle of the batter with the back of a spoon and place the pear inside the well. Gently press down so that the batter settles around the pear.

Bake for 20 minutes or until the top of the batter is set. The inside of the batter will be gooey so the toothpick test will not be a good indication here. Let the cakes cool and serve with chocolate ganache.

Butternut Carrot Soup

Adrian teases me that I buy butternut squashes and then forget about them. That can be said of a lot of the beautiful vegetables I have seen at the farmers' market. I try hard to remember them all and cook them. But a squash and some carrots have been lingering, so I made a wonderful soup with them. You could substitute any type of onion or seasoning. This is just what I used.

Cut the butternut squash in half from top to bottom, take out seeds. I baked that at 375 for about 30 minutes. Just bake until soft while you are doing the rest of the stuff.

One bunch new onions (they look like pregnant large scallions), diced to part way up the greens. Saute in a bit of olive oil, don't brown.

3 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed. Throw into the pot with the onions.

7-8 medium to small carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks. This was just part of a beautiful bunch of little carrots. Adrian bought regular ones from the store and they look big next to these beauties. Throw these into the pot with the onions and garlic.

1tsp dried thyme. I got a bag from Penzey spices. Lovely thyme. Threw that into the onion pot as well. Grated pepper in as well. You can add more pepper when you taste for saltiness at the end.

1 carton of low sodium chicken broth. Could be vegetable because there is no other animal in this soup. Added that to the pot.

3 inch piece of fresh ginger. I grated that while the carrots were getting soft. What a tedious task. The only thing tedious about this soup, but the fresh ginger is what makes the soup.

Peel the baked squash and throw into the pot. Add the fresh ginger. Use an immersion blender to make this mixture smooth.

Juice of 2 mandarin oranges. Actually I would have liked the juice and peel of one or two regular oranges, but I didn't have them and the Cutie mandarins that I got at Trader Joes needed to be consumed.

Fabulous. Adrian ate two bowls of it. Laughed when he said it was a little textureless for his taste. I think to remedy that you could put croutons or roasted pumpkin seeds on it. He laughed because he complains that my usual thrown together soups are more like stews because there is too little broth. But there are a heck of a lot of different textures. Can't win them all.

Today I'm baking more cookies. These are chocolate cake cookies with left over macadamia nuts, chocolate chips and peanut butter chips. Num. Throwing them in the freezer as soon as they cool. Adrian says they are too cakey, but I think all the women at his gaming party next week end will love them. Uuummmm chocolate. Homer should try these.

It's Autumn!

It must be autumn. It is in the 50's, the trees finally have a reason to change color and drop leaves. It is so hard to be a tree in Southern California, you never know what you should be doing.

I finally know what I'm doing. I went to the tree trimming party on Monday with several dozens of cookies. Everyone liked them, so that was good. I baked one batch this week of fresh ginger cookies with cocoa and chocolate hunks. I threw in macadamia nuts because I had them and had lost the recipe that uses them. Punt.

Dined with a few friends during the week, Dan and his wife Karen on Thursday, then breakfast with Maggie on Friday. Man, I've gotten to be such an old lady. Adrian and I eat dinner early, about 5:30 - 6:00. Dan wanted dinner at 8:00 on Thursday. Somehow I brought out my young self and survived. The cookies I baked on Thursday were for Maggie and Ernie. I'm not sure if Ernie got any. I know Adrian's friend Emily didn't get any. Those I didn't give Maggie were consumed in no time. Which makes me think I should probably stop baking for a while.

It started raining late Friday and continued through the farmers' market on Saturday morning. For once I got to sleep in late because I knew the parking lot wouldn't be jammed an hour before opening. It was worth going. Dungeness crab is in season. I bought a big one and some salmon. And I made sure to thank every vendor as I shopped. It would have been horrible to show up and have them all tucked in their beds. One vendor and I marveled at the abundance of the market. We still have grapes, berries and tomatoes. I think the tomatoes are grown hydroponically, so it isn't really weather centered. We are very lucky to live near this wonderful market. This book, Madness Under the Royal Palms, is about people who think they are lucky to live in Palm Beach, Florida. Boy, what a hive of sickies. Or maybe it was the author who brought the sickness. Leamer is famous for his books about the Kennedys. I get the feeling that he is fascinated with wealth. The folks in Palm Beach have it. They don't like poor folk, they don't like Jews, they don't like gay couples. They do like young women if they are old men, they do like gay men to escort divorced older women, they do like to leave a huge carbon footprint.

I like South Pasadena.
Let The Great World Spin is mostly about the time when that French guy walked a wire between the World Trade Center towers. It tells a series of stories about an Irish priest-like person and his brother, a prostitute and her daughter, a judge and his wife, among other stories. They weave together with the story of the wire walker. This book won the National Book Award for fiction this year. I liked it. I always like stories that interlink in interesting ways. It was also very evocative of that time when the man walked, a war raged and a president resigned. It's a good book.

Aah, Oops

I went early to the Elf event last night and listened to the end of a book while I waited for the hour to arrive. As I was waiting, I got a call from my brother, Jeff. My overjoyed, besotted brother Jeff. Seems he is now a grandfather of this most adorable bundle, Aydin.

My dear nephew, Bill, is his father. Aren't they sweet together? Jeff says that Bill tweeted updates of the birth throughout Sunday. Aydin arrived three weeks early. That might be a worry, but he is well over 6 pounds and has all appendages in tact. He also has his priorities in tact.

His Aunt Cathie and Uncle Tyler were in town for Thanksgiving from Ohio. Three weeks later and they would have missed out on all the fun. All this came out in the joyful phone call I received from Jeff. As I sat in my car in front of my friend's house. One week early for the party that will take place next Monday.

But here's my thought on that. If I hadn't been sitting there, I'd have been in my house, fooling around with my computer. I would have gotten the news from Cathie's lovely email and blog. I would have missed the unraveling of the story from Jeff. Not all mistakes are bad things.

Cookies and Books

I am going to Marilyn's this evening for an Elf Party. I don't know what that means. But she did ask that we bring cookies. I've never known how to whip up just one batch. So me and Martha shared recipes (not from this book) and I made 4 batches. A cranberry coconut one, an orange poppy seed one, chocolate crackle cookies and cream cheese walnut cookies. The last ones were supposed to be frozen as a log then sliced. Mine looked like a log that had partly decayed in the forest, so I needed to do something to perk them up. I melted bittersweet chocolate, added ground espresso and splattered that all over the cookies. They look so much better with that. I had fun but bought so much cookie prep stuff that Adrian said I can bake for all his game parties. Pshew. Sure I'll come off as an overzealous mother, but I will have the fun of trying new recipes and someone else can get fat eating them.
The Big Burn should be me at the gym after all that baking. But no, it's a good book about Teddy Roosevelt, Gifford Pinchot and the beginning of the National Parks system. And conservancy. And greedy business men. Honestly, the more things stay the same, the more depressed I get. Gee, it would be great if we would evolve into more thoughtful people. One fat cat senator actually said that all the countries resources should go to the wealthy because after they have scraped off all the cream, the skim milk will run down to the poor people. He didn't put it quite like that. And that skim milk was darn near water when it got to the rest of the people.

The story involves a huge forest fire at the border of Idaho and Montana at the turn of the century. Many people died. Many people lost all their possessions. The folks who underfunded the forestry service were not part of either group. To top it off, they wouldn't help the people who had done the most to save lives and property. On government land. Outrageous. See, some things just don't change. One of those things is my admiration for Teddy, the best damned Republican to ever win the presidency. Oh, maybe that Lincoln guy, but you know what I mean.

Things that don't change includes Ken Follett's writing style. I used to really like his books. Please remind me to stop buying them. It isn't just his huge books about medieval England (Pillars of the Earth, etc.) It's his little thrillers that have many cringe-worthy moments of deep emotion. Code to Zero is about the first rocket the US fired successfully back in the late 50's. It had a promising Bourne like premise of a man who had lost his memory. But most of the writing was gack-worthy. I don't know whether to say "Ken, Ken, Ken, how could you write so poorly." Or "Peg, Peg, Peg, how could you have ever liked this drivel?" Maybe a little of each.

Reading and Visiting

So many books to read. So many friends to visit. Unfortunately, not everyone. I had lunch with my friend Rachelle on Monday. The company was great, the food, not so much. I'm happy to learn that she and her husband Jack are well and happy. What more could you want for your friends? I missed seeing her the last time I was home, so it's been about a year. I like friendships that resume where you left them, even after long absences.

I'm still a bit sad about not seeing my family at Thanksgiving. This was my decision, so I have nobody to fault but myself. Basically, I am happy to not be on the road during this most traveled time. And I will be happy to see everyone when people aren't being pulled to visit other family members. And Adrian and I are very thankful to be here is our little apartment, eating our hearts out. I have finally finished Out of Mao's Shadow. The author writes/wrote for the Washington Post as their China correspondent. Lots of stories about how autocratic the Chinese are with their new capitalistic economy. Sadly, it's hard to get all up in arms about their actions when we do many of the same things. Some wealthy people are getting preferential treatment while increasing their wealth and devastating the peasants. This is hard reading. He writes well, that's not the issue. What is the issue is that some people are never going to get a fair shake. Sad. But as I was explaining to Adrian about the Chinese government taking peoples property in Beijing, he reminded me that the same thing happened in Connecticut. Well, it wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities are there. And Pan explains very clearly what Mao did with his Cultural Revolution and other programs which undermined the intellectuals and business people. Silly, sad man. Poor country.

That was interespersed with two entertaining mysteries, Rough Country and Through a Glass Darkly. Rough Country is about murders in Minnesota. Cute male detective. Lots of lesbians. I guess there is something for everyone. Cute detective is standard for Sanford as is Minnesota. Lesbians are not. It wasn't bad. Made me consider wearing lipstick more often, though.

Through a Glass Darkly is about poisoning the canals of Venice with the leftovers from blowing glass. I'm sensing a theme with Ms. Leon. She is very ecologically minded. Yokay. As long as we know what we are getting into when we pick up a book. I like her detective and his family. They are very loving, intelligent and care a lot about each other and the earth. Not bad.

It's OK

Most of my friends don't read my blog. Most of my relatives don't read my blog (one son, two brothers, two sisters-in-law, etc.). Most of the people on the face of this earth don't read my blog. Do they all know that is okay with me?

I started the blog to tell about my trip to India. It was very useful for letting people at the tribune companies know what was happening with their helpdesks. And then I was home and the blog became a diary. I am always surprised when people read the blog now. For me, it is a diary of what I've been reading and doing. I tend to forget which books I've read. Once reminded I can sometimes remember my favorite parts of them. Sometimes. Any memory jogger is a good thing for me these days.

The only person required to read this blog is my sister. We chat every day. It is so much easier not to have to repeat myself. Poor Sisty Ugler. But she is a good sport. As for the rest of you in this world, don't feel guilty when you tell me you haven't read my blog in years. It's all right. But thanks for stopping by when you do. It's nice to know that some of my nie-phews drop by as do friends from The Times and India. Thank you.

Just remember, though, this isn't mandatory for being my friend.

BTW, I got my first SS check on 11/13. Wow. Great to have money in the bank. As we say around here - LIG.

And if you are wondering, I've just had two friends explain why they don't read the blog. I'm assuming that they have full lives without this added bonus. :)

Fork in the Road

Old joke: What do you do when you come to a fork in the road? Take it. It seems that a local Pasadena artist took that to heart and shook it up. He didn't find a fork in the road, so for a friend's birthday gift, he added one. I love this. The road divides at this point and the huge fork has been placed in the median between the diverging paths.

As I am at sort of a fork in the road of my life, I'd like to take this as my symbol. Should I return to work? How should I use my time? How can I give back? What a fun place to be. Sort of like the median in the middle of Pasadena Av.

And here is another thing perfect for where I am in my life. Great Expectations. As I've been saying, that guy Dickens could sure write. He wrote two chapter segments for a periodical each week or month. People must have sucked up that magazine when it hit the stands, because I was always wanting to know what happens next in this book. Young Master Pip was given great expectations by a secret benefactor. How all of this ends up is just like life. How we get there is just not like anyone's life I've ever known.

People will be reading this and other Dickens books into the next century. I wonder which current authors will still be read in future decades, much less centuries? John Irving? JK Rowling? Dan Brown? What makes a book be a classic? I'd say - good plot, fluid writing, and interesting characters.

Another thing always sticks out for me in a book that might not make it a classic is an original way of saying something. Sometimes a sentence will strike me and I will want to write it down and memorize it. I never do, but I'd like to. That doesn't happen as much when I listen. Sometimes the writing just makes me gasp. Maybe I'll try writing those sentences here so I can find out if they make other people gasp.

Art for Our Sake

My dear niece, Natalie, has returned to teaching now that Margaret has started school. What luck for the children who come in contact with her. I knew that in my heart, but she has found a way to show it. The link is to her website for the school that shows the artwork her students have been producing.

Beyond being pretty awe-inspiring, this site is educational. I didn't know this stuff. I'm sure her students didn't either. In an age when arts are being trimmed from school budgets, I'm glad this school realizes that it is important for the well-roundedness of the kids. I know I'm much rounder for reading the pages.

Now We're Cooking

Adrian and I have been cooking a lot since I've been home, but never together. This little apartment and kitchen do not lend themselves to working together. Until today. Adrian is taking food to a friend's house for dinner and he asked me to help him. My job was to rasp the orange peel off an orange, grate garlic and chop pecans. Chopping nuts is tough because they tend to fly all over the place.

I remembered that I had one of those cute little choppers advertised on late night TV. I didn't buy mine that way, but I love it like those people on the infomercials. Adrian said I was having too much fun with it, so he used it to chop mushrooms. Fun. And it was much easier to chop the garlic fine this way rather than grating it with the rasp.

I was also about to throw out this old bottle of Armagnac because the cork had rotted. I'm not sure where I got this, maybe when I was in Armagnac years ago. I somehow got the cork out and Adrian used some of it in his dish. I saved a little for me. It was like lighter fluid. I'm sure it will be good in the stuffing.

Stuffing? No, not an early turkey. Adrian does not like turkey. He has stuffed a huge pork tenderloin that he had butterflied. He made this shortly after I came home in October. He didn't have string that day and asked the butcher for some when he picked the pork up today. But I had recently seen Jacques Pepin use the method you see below. It was easier to put tin foil trusses around the roast than to figure out how to tie it with string.

Those lucky guys will be eating Adrian's pork roast and potato salad for dinner tonight. And lucky me had the fun of helping him prepare it.

Yes, I Know

Yes, I know. I haven't been very good at keeping up with my blog. But see, life in South Pasadena is pretty routine and normal. Oh sure, there are some moments. Like when I went to the farmers' market yesterday. I go there every Saturday morning. It opens for business at 8:30, but unlike Arlington's farmers market, the start time is only a suggestion. I get there at 7:30 and watch the late arriving vendors putting up their canopies and stocking their tables.

I used to bring a cart to hang bags of produce on. Then, throughout the week I'd throw out vegetables that we hadn't used. So bad. Now that I'm not working, we've developed a more realistic outlook on food shopping. This should be a surprise - just buy what you will use. So now I take two Trader Joe's bags to carry through the market. Because my purchases are limited, I look at everything much more closely.

Has the market always been so beautiful? Yesterday the sun was just coming up. The market is at the base of the San Gabriel mountains. They were clear and stunning, a great backdrop to the market. The light of the sun made all the vegetables even more colorful. I gasped when I saw one stall with beets and carrots glistening in the sun. I was singing softly to myself as I strolled. If I was a good singer, the blind guitarist or the steel drum player would have had a vocalist for the day.

In between appearances at the farmers' market, I've been cleaning house and reading. I have read a slew of crummy mysteries as well as this nice non-fiction book, Outcasts United, about a little town in Georgia. Who knew that relief agencies were putting a part of every immigrant group in a town outside Georgia. There are people from many countries in Africa, the Middle East, Asia and Eastern Europe. They are all poor. Many don't speak English. All are looking for a better life. As you can imagine, this has adversely affected the people who have lived in the town for decades. I thought this just happened in Southern California.

A young woman from Jordan starts and coaches a soccer team for young men. The young men come from every country represented in this diaspora. The story takes place over a couple of years, but the author does backstories on the coach and key players. I enjoyed this story and needed this story. It was important for me to remember why people come here.

Books I Have Known

I've been reading while I've not been writing. There were a few nameless thriller/mysteries and these:

Okay, The Girl Who Played With Fire is a thriller/mystery. It is the second in a trilogy written by a now deceased Swedish writer. This was really good. You learn a lot about the heroine of the first book, Lisbeth Salander. She is a fascinating woman. LOTS of stuff happens. Most of this stuff you've never read in other books. Loved it. I listened to it on the road. When I'm on the road, I tend to go to sleep listening to whatever I'm listening to. That means that I got to hear some of this story over and over again. For once, that made me happy.
Olive Kitteridge has Book Club written all over it. Oh, and Pulitzer Prize. This is a series of short stories about a small town in Maine. Olive is a teacher in the town and appears in all stories. This is a great way to tell her story. She is an unpleasant woman whose unpleasantness becomes more obvious as you read. But that didn't mean I hated this woman. She was just very sad and hard. A great read.
Audible had a sale on Classics. I got four of them and have only finished one to date. Rob Roy is interesting because it isn't about Rob Roy. One thing that you learn when reading classics as an adult, as opposed to as a high school student, is that they are just like modern fiction. Do you remember slogging through Ivanhoe when you were in school. OMG, that was tough. Maybe it's because it was a requirement. Rob Roy is about a young man who doesn't want to go into the family business, banking (or money lending). He travels to northern England to live with an uncle. His cousin goes to London to take his role in his father's business. There is romance, intrigue, economic catastrophe and war. Rob Roy keeps popping up. All characters are interesting.

Where Men Win Glory was tough to read. It is about the life and death of Pat Tillman, a pro football player who volunteered for military service after the events of 9/11. The only reason that I decided to read it was that it was written by Jon Krakauer. He does very thorough research for all his books. I'm glad, because I don't want to read about this topic ever again. Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan. Friendly fire is an odd term. I don't think I'll write that ever again while I'm never-againing. His death was turned into a media circus by the Bush administration, covered up by the military and, finally, an outing of duplicity of the highest order. The best part of the book was reading about what a fine man Tillman was. He was interested in reading everything. He loved to talk about what he read, getting input from people with views different from his. He was friendly to everyone. He hated the stupid rules of the military that makes years of service and rank more important than clear thinking. He thought about everything, kept a journal and always worked to be a better person. Okay, I'm going to say it - I wish all of this could have been said about his commander in chief.

The most fun? I'm home with Adrian who asks me what I'm reading and loves to talk about everything. We had lunch today at our favorite noodle place. The food was great, the conversation was the best. Even better? I'm almost done unpacking. I'm seeing more floor and flat surfaces. LIG.

About Social Security

One of the problems I had in Virginia was that I wasn't making enough money to allow me to do all the things I wanted to do. I thought that if I moved back to South Pasadena I would want to do less and could live on less money.

So far that's been true. What I've been doing most is cleaning and stowing. But then, I've only been back a week. I've also been looking for certificates: marriage, divorce and birth. One thing I had decided to do as I was packing to leave Virginia was apply for Social Security. You can do that on-line. Then a lovely lady from the Pasadena SS office called me to tell me that I could get my ex-husband's social security. That was pretty stunning. We divorced before he died. But the rule is that if you are married for 10 years, you can still get the money. Imagine!

So for all you guys who didn't understand why I didn't divorce him years earlier - - HA!

It all works very well for me. That and being home. I really enjoyed being in Virginia, like Dorothy in the Emerald City. But there really is no place like home. And my Toto cooks amazing food. Life is Good.

With a Bang

I am back in California. For good. For very good. Lots of reasons for coming home, some reasons for coming home so abruptly and they were all about me. Love Eric. Love Cindy and her family. Love Virginia. Loved working at Booz Allen. And overjoyed to be home.

My last day on the East Coast was the trip to New York. Now, why didn't I do that earlier? Took the bus both ways. Very pleasant. Listened to books and podcasts on my new iPod Touch all the way there and back. I like the size of my old iPod better. It fit in my bra so I didn't have to always have pockets. This one is the size of an iPhone. My bra is not that big. Still, the books play just the same. Did I mention that I washed the old iPod the day before the trip? It was in the pocket of my pants. Damn.

Got to the theater in plenty of time. Eric, Cindy and I were meeting at the theater to see A Steady Rain. Oh my, it was wonderful. Just Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman, sitting and roaming around the stage. There was minimal scenery, just a scrim behind them on which some scenes of the city were displayed. It was all about them, these two Chicago cops. So good. The British and Aussie accents were gone. Jackman turned into a clueless racist and Craig was his cop best friend. So good. One of the best parts was that Eric could understand almost every word. It's hard for him to hear most plays we've been to. Sometimes that isn't so bad. I'm glad this is the one he could hear.

Afterwards we said our final goodbyes and I went around the huge mob waiting for the stars to leave the stage door and found Tom. He forgot that our proposed meeting spot was right next to the stage door. That just added to the fun. He's so tall it was easy to see him. We had a pitcher of beer at his favorite NY bar. I'm not sure if they serve any food there. It was a perfect NY dive. Then we went to have dinner close to the bus stop and talked endlessly about The Times and the Book Awards and fun times we'd had in the past.

What a perfect day.

Then I threw my final couple of things into the car and started a four day drive. Piece of cake. Like a mantra. 66 to 81 to 40 to 15 to 210. And to my door. Still putting stuff away and cleaning. This will take a while. In the interim, I'm getting paperwork together so I can get Reg's Social Security. But that's another story.

Facebook Fallout

Yes, I am late in getting to Facebook. And I'm not really all that into it. But I was told that family's trip to Australia could best be experienced on Facebook. Then I learned that some friends had asked me to join them there, so I accepted some. Long story short, I'm going to dinner with Chandan in Baltimore on Friday. I haven't seen him since I left India over two years ago. We Gchat now and then, but he is often 10 hours ahead of me. Who knows how long he has been in Philadelphia. The man does get around, but I will be seeing him before we both leave. If I hadn't seen his complaint on Facebook about being stuck somewhere, we never would have done this.

Then we're going to see a play on Broadway with Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman. I can't afford to

stay over night, so I'm taking the bus to NY, finding Eric and Cindy to see the play, then visiting with old friend Tom before the bus takes me home again that night. This happens on the 10th. Very exciting. I used to visit Tom in NY when he ran the Times Book Prizes. It is run by gnomes in LA

now, so no more visits with Tom. This is not thanks to Facebook, but to a very tight wallet.

Work Monday was very exciting. Got to laugh and chat with retired general Abizaid. Working for Gary can be exciting. Didn't get a chance to tell him good bye, nice to work with you. But I did say goodbye to his EA. She seemed very sad that I am leaving. I told her she didn't take off enough time for my budget. Good to know that I will be missed.

And I've been reading. One has no picture. It's called Gourmet Rhapsody by the woman who wrote the Hedgehog book. This is about a food critic in Paris who is dying. Mean old man. Lovely little book. I think I'd get this from the library rather than spending money on it. It seems very light weight. But it has wonderful things to say about food.

And then I read the last of the Reacher books on my list of those I had not read. So, no more of those on these pages. Nice little juxtaposition, though. Gourmet Rhapsody is on the total other end of the fiction spectrum from this nameless book. Both entertaining, but the food one is just a bit more involving.

Always nice to read an old P.D. James. A Mind to Murder is one of her slowly unwinding mysteries. Recommended only if you like that sort of thing. Or if you get it for free.

And finally a little piece of fluff by the man who writes the Number 1 Ladies' Detective books. See, the thing is, I'm re-reading Nixonland, thanks to Adrian. It is just that good. I've only re-read half of it, folks are still making me mad, especially my folk. We were certainly the great unwashed. I guess you always want your side to be right. But we certainly weren't always right. There is always some assinine (misspelled on purpose) group of people who go way too far. But Dick and crew were no better. At least that perspective hasn't changed.

The Lost Art of Gratitude is another slow, lovely book. The heroine is always right, always perceptive and always grateful. Nice. See, it happens sometimes. Just not in America in the '60s.

Stuff

So funny that I haven't used that title yet. All my miscellaneous folders, files, and stuff are named Peg's Stuff. I even taught a File Manger class, back in the day, and told people to create a file folder called (my name) Stuff. I wonder how many of those folders have carried on at The Times. So Stuff it is.

I'm moving back to LA on Halloween. At least, that is when the trip West begins. We'll see how long it takes me to get there. I'm missing having my own place. I think it must be a woman thing. You are always a guest in any other woman's home. I know I felt that So Pasadena was Adrian's place when I visited earlier this year (January), but I promise I will pee in every corner to reclaim my home.

Stuff

Kevin put this fun link on his Facebook page. We are #37 in healthcare in the world. I guess that isn't so bad, since there are probably more than 100 countries in the world. We beat Afghanistan. Don't know the criteria, the guy is singing, not giving a lecture, so we'll never know. But 37 is pretty far down, considering our impression of our place in the world.

Stuff

North Carolina was fine. I did go to the beach with Adrian. He is a very patient soul. We walked there twice. It wasn't far away, but it was a beach. Full of sand and sun. Yippee. Adrian talked to some of the fisherfolk at the shoreline. Now that seemed interesting. Otherwise, sand and sun. Loved being with Adrian and someday I may load the pictures to my computer and share them. Maybe not. If so, you will see the light house at Cape Hatteras. Magic name, no? Also saw Kitty Hawk. You know how I love to see the places that I've read about. Outer Banks. Cool.

Stuff

I have some work coming in before I go. That will be nice. Linsay seems to be reconnecting me to all the VP's I've worked for in the year that I've been here. I told her that I need a lot of money before I go. Hope she finds more for the 6 weeks before I travel again. She is setting me up with Kelly in LA and telling the Booz people in San Diego that I have experience temping for them. It might be fun to go down there for jobs, get to see other Lundstroms. Haven't mentioned it to them yet, since for now it is all talk.

Stuff

We are going to New York to see a play on October 10. 10/10. Works well for the military, Europe AND the US. I can never remember the name, but it stars Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman. Swooon. Hotels in NY are way too expensive for me so I'm taking the very early a.m. bus from Arlington, seeing the show and then having a drink with my friend Tom. He knows a great place and will pick me up at the stage door, where I will be clinging to either stars' leg. Then I catch the 7:00 bus back to Arlington. Just a 5 hour bus ride. I will be sure to charge my iPod and settle in. Cindy and Eric are taking the train and more time. That is the plan at the moment. They don't have reservations yet. I'm sure they will be fine. We'll just meet at the play and then go our separate ways. They have a lot to see and I am looking forward to seeing Tom. I visited him two years in a row for the Book Awards announcement in NY. He was in charge of the Book Awards. That's all changed now. It will be good to see him.

Red Faced in NC

No, you know me. I haven't been to the beach yet. You may take that to mean I never will. I'm not crazy about sand and sun, so Adrian and I have done other things. I'll post again after I've downloaded pictures. If you want to see where we are look here. I'm redfaced because this place has a lot of books. We found Silva's The Defector. Remember how I thought it ended abruptly and was a little upset about that? Hummm, guess I fell asleep at the end because Eric didn't think it ended in Russia. Nope, it didn't. It actually had a very complete ending. Sigh.

The Help is a fabulous book. It's about the life of maids in Jackson, MS in the early 60's and their impact on the families they serve. It was great to listen to. Adrian and I are also listening to Nixonland. The beginning of Nixonland covers the same period of time as The Help. It's interesting listening to the two different perspectives. Even so, it's Chick Lit. Lovely, obnoxious people to hate and ever-suffering, kind people to love. Nothing really horrible happens to anyone and the two protagonists live happily-ever-after. Chick Lit. Love it.

New Tricks

As my dear friend, Per, would say, "Hubba hubba." I am one happy camper. Adrian arrived on Thursday. We went to a Nationals' ball game on Friday and today he barbequed a wonderful dinner. Chicken, fennel, peppers and pineapple. Fabulous. All of it, fabulous. Tomorrow we leave for the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It is all good.

New Tricks is the book that I read through sleep and a couple of days. It was pretty cute, good mystery and enjoyable enough to go back several times to catch up on things that I missed when I drifted off during the night.
Drifting off was never an issue with The Elegance of the Hedgehog. The question was whether the girl would kill herself, would the concierge successfully hide from all her "charges?" There is a lot of philosophising in this book. You can skip that. Lovely plot. Good characters. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and never fell asleep once.

The End of August

I think I made up for only blogging once in July. It pays to work only 2 weeks out of a month. Well, that would be wrong. Nobody pays you not to work. My dear Linsay is back. And work will be coming in, I'm sure. She even found a half day job for me for Friday, but Adrian arrives on Thursday night and I am looking forward to spending time with him.

I have filled this time with reading while California burns. So sorry, dear friends, it sounds horrible from the right coast. I was half way through two books last night. Both were too good to listen to as I drifted to sleep. So I played a light weight mystery. I listened to the first half hour and drifted off. As usual, I awoke every couple of hours. I'd hear the story advance as though I was reading it while riffling the pages of the book. There was still an hour left when I woke up this morning so I got to hear the end. I'll probably do the same thing tonight, but start further in the book. By the time I'm done, I'll have heard it all.

One of the really good books is The Stalin Epigram. Robert Littell won The Times Book Prize a couple of years ago for his book Legends. I loved that book. He writes like Le Carre. This is a deep and slow moving book. It's about the Soviet Union in 1934. People are snatched up and tortured. They are shot or exiled. Somehow I kept getting Stalin's name mixed up with Cheney. Not really, but you can see where Cheney got some of his ideas.

The story is about a little poem that Osip Mandelstam wrote about Stalin. It was not complimentary, so he was jailed then sent to a gulag. I'd highly recommend this for those who need to be reminded what happens when people do not have our constitutional freedoms. One fascinating character was a weight lifter who was jailed for having a sticker of the Eiffel Tower on his suitcase. He can't read and is as dense as a post. His take on his trials is fascinating. It doesn't answer one of my questions about whether dumb people know that they are dumb. He is, but he is a lot happier than the very smart poets. Ignorance is bliss. And is a delight to read.

Little Missy Is Not All That

This is written with mixed feelings. I had a job for a week and they did not like my work. At least, that's what I assume. Nobody ever told me why I wasn't working a second week on this assignment. The job was filling out forms and putting packages together for people who had left / were leaving the firm. Mind-numbingly boring work. Lower paying work. But it was work.

Was I too slow? Was I too inaccurate? Don't know. Ms. Linsay wrote me an email and told me that I wouldn't be returning. Can't wait for Monday to say I'm sorry. But deep down, I'm pretty happy. That was a miserable job with a pack of 20 somethings. Kind of depressing, but I think I'll get over it.

I've heard about this series about Inspector Dalziel. This is the first book I've read about him and it's about his death - The Death of Dalziel. Let me tell you one of the true joys of listening to books; I now know his name is pronounced DL. Forget every letter inbetween. He's a cop in Yorkshire and his right hand guy is Peter Pascoe, who solves this mystery. It was a good introduction to the series.

American Lightning is supposed to be about the crime of the century. It's a very good book, but I wouldn't give the crime that elevated stature. The story is about a lot of Americans living in the 1910s. During that period anachrists blew up The Times building. I'd read a book about this 40 years ago by Adela Rogers St. Johns. Her father was Earl Rogers. So here are all the noted people in this book:

• Harrison Gray Otis - publisher of The Times. Reactionary. Swindler. Helped bring water to LA so he could sell it.
• Harry Chandler - his son-in-law. Business man, slightly less money-grubby than Mr. Otis. Their building was blown up because of their anti-union stance in a time of high militancy in the labor movement.
• D. W. Griffith - Biograph Pictures director. Not sure why all this about early movies was in the book. Movies went from one reelers to full length movies during this time. Mary Pickford and the Gish sisters are in the book; D.W.'s womanizing is here. But really, not that relevant.
• Clarence Darrow - Defended the bombers. This was interesting, before the Scopes' Trial. He was trying to move from good causes to more lucretive trials. He was tried for tampering with a witness during the trial. Earl Rodgers defended him - to a point. Then he defended himself.
• Billy Burns - Burns Detective Agency. He tracked and found the bombers.

And I won't tell you who the doers were. This was an enjoyable book. I think Ms. Rogers' biography, The Honeycomb, told about the bombing a bit more thoroughly, but it's hard to remember after 40 years.

And now I have time to plan for Adrian's arrival next Thursday. Hurray!! We are going to the North Carolina shores next week.

What a Coincidence!

The Secret Scripture was a nominee for the Times' Book Prize in fiction. Sebastian Barry also is shortlisted for the Booker prize from time to time. He's a fabulous writer. Every character and thought has its reason. Sometimes books do go on with superfluous stuff. This book is set in the Sligo area of Western Ireland. The reader does great accents and you could tell when people were from other areas in Ireland. Well, Barry gives some help to her because he points out the different accents.

The book is based on an old woman's diary of sorts, a priest's written accounts, and a doctor's writings or analysis of her sanity. She is over 100 and is in an insane asylum that is about to be torn down. Since she has lived for 100 years, you get a little Irish history. Other than that, this is a well-written melodrama. I was a little off-put by the huge coincidences near the end, but not fatal. Not bad after all that Obama-Bush-Nixon reading I've been doing. The coincidences in their lives can be dangerous or were dangerous to other living creatures.

Started a new temp job today. As always, my laptop wasn't ready. I got to fold letters and put address labels on envelopes. I do work hard for my money. At least I could see that this work was too mundane for regular employees to bother with. And I got to listen to my book while attaching stickers. Great.

Follow Me

We went to see Peter, Paul and Mary last night at Wolf Trap. What we saw was Peter and Paul and a couple of old, sick guys playing backup. Mary is very ill. Mary is also the heart of that group so we left at half time. It wasn't all bad because we went to a place called Tap and Vine by the house to have an apres infirmary brew. I've been wanting to try the place and it looks like it could be a good hangout. When we got home I went to Itunes and downloaded some of the songs I missed at the concert. Follow Me was just one. Another was Hush-A-Bye.

When I was in India we played a game where you had to sing if you didn't perform whatever task you were assigned. I wouldn't do it because Adrian asked me, when he was about 4, not to sing to him at night anymore. I've been reticent about singing ever since. The song I loved to sing to him was Hush-A-Bye. Besides not being able to carry a tune, I also couldn't remember all the words and sort of made them up as I went. He hated that. Now I will listen to it all the time and sing it to him when he comes out for Labor Day week. :)

Someone else who required following was Mr. Cheney. With a net. If you don't believe that we were tricked into voting for Bush after reading Greatest Story Ever Sold, you may believe that we were tricked into agreeing to attack Iraq on the flimsiest of conceits after reading Hubris. We know all this. Some of us wouldn't have voted for Bush under any circumstance and some of us wouldn't believe his and Cheney's stories about Iraq unless one of them walked into a nerve gas cloud. Not that it wouldn't have helped. That's it for me, though. I just can't read any more about the duping of America. Aren't you lucky.

Finding a Balance

Finding a balance in my life is very difficult. I love to have quiet time, like the nearly two weeks at the beginning of August. But money is an issue. Surprise. So I worry when I don't have a lot of work booked on my calendar. It always feels like I will never work again. I worked for Gary again this week. But then there was nothing on the horizon.

But, joy of joys, my Kelly rep whose job it is to keep those jobs rolling in got back from maternity leave last Friday. She is so good for me. I told her how her replacement did nothing for any of the Kelly temps. Big virtual tears. So happy she is back. I just got a two week assignment. That means I will work for 3 weeks in August. That is exactly how I like it. That is balance. The best part is that Adrian is coming at the end of those two weeks. Yes, that is a perfect balance.

Finished a book by a new author, The Garden of Evil. I think it was on sale at Audible. It's kind of my new mystery genre - Italian detectives. This one takes place in Rome and involves art big time. The focus is about serial killers and Caravaggio. I enjoyed the complex characters and the insight into the art of Caravaggio. I could almost see the paintings. Fortunately, the violence was not as graphic as the art descriptions.