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.