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.