Category: food

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Season’s greetings from the Pacific Northwest. Today is Wednesday, May 5, 2021. But you knew all that already, didn’t you? Summer is creeping into the region. The sun was creeping over the horizon at 6:01 AM. The outside temperature is already creeping past 71. It’s believed the sun will creep out of sight at 8:14 PM.

The cats are enjoying the weather for sure. Out through the pet door (which I think would be a pretty good album title, or maybe a novel) before sunrise, they find places to flooze all day. Cool. Youngblood (formal name, Papi) likes the cushioned patio chairs. Boo (the big mini-Panther) prefers grass just in the shadow. Tucker stomps around to the front porch (“Ain’t no one getting past me”), curling up just off the porch, behind the pillar, under a bush.

Such warmth has stirred gardening aspirations again. My wife made the call yesterday. “We’ll grow lettuce, squash, and tomatoes. To the Grange!” Masks on, we stormed the nursery. Plants were selected, six-packs and pots purchased, plans were made. Fingers are crossed that we’ll have water. Meanwhile, the garlic is almost ready for harvesting, though my wife worries, “It’s thirty days too early!” Her giant onion is bolting. She’s letting it do so, figuring it deserves it after all it’s been through. The only worry is that we’ll have the water to, well, water the garden for the entire season. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, etc.

Musically, Ima on wavelength with a 1979 Talking Heads melody. Lyrics crept in like sunshine breaking through the clouds after a heavy afternoon rain.

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco
This ain’t no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey
I ain’t got time for that now

h/t to Genius.com

Yes, it’s time for “Life During Wartime”, which could easily be repurposed as “Life During Pandemic”. Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get that vax. Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Today finds us at Sunday once again. I was just looking at the calendar, confirming that it’s April 25, and was surprised to realize there’s another Friday in the month. Just not paying attention.

The sun made it to Ashland at 6:15 AM and will make its departure at 8:03 PM. We’re getting close to almost fourteen hours of sunshine, which I do like. Like my cats, I am a sunshine fan. Don’t know how much sunshine we’ll see. The weather is continuing a drizzly, damp, chilly pattern. It’s 42 F right now, and we’re not expecting much higher. As I read on the net, the weather slowed down like a driver doing 75 in a 55 when he sees a cop behind him.

“Wedding Bell Blues” by the Fifth Dimension (1969) is looping through my mind. The great Laura Nyro wrote and originally recorded it. Her songs were hits by several others, like “Stoned Soul Picnic”, “And When I Die”, and “Eli’s Comin'”. She died way too young, 49, done in by ovarian cancer.

And while I like all those songs, I’m in the mood for something upbeat this morning. I challenged the mind for something. After a period of crickets singing and playing, the Foo Fighters crept in with “I’ll Stick Around” from 1995.

Upbeat? Up-tempo, I guess.

By the way, the three-day green-smoothie fast ended for me yesterday, day eight. Energy level just felt too low. Tired while walking, and didn’t achieve twelve miles for the day. Been a while for that. So I’m back on solids, and just finished a bowl of gluten-free oatmeal with peanut butter, cranberries, and pumpkin seed/flax granola.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax, including the second dose, if you’re going the Moderna/Pfizer route. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Welcome to a chilly, drizzly, southern Oregon Saturday. The date is April 24, 2021. We’re almost to a wrap on the fourth month of 2021. Whizzing by for me. What about you?

Outside, it be 49 degrees under a sky rich with clouds and miserly with blue. Rain has dumped off and on through the night and morning. Nothing major; just enough to wet our lands and deter the cats from looking for sunshine. The sun’s morning appearance arrived at 6:16 AM. Sol will no longer be visible after 8:02 PM.

We’ve arrived at day 8 of our three-day green smoothie fast. Yesterday’s experiment was using cauliflower in the smoothie, with strawberries. My taste buds said, “I don’t like that. Don’t do it again.” I remain moderately hungry throughout the day with my stomach singing love songs to foods that I enjoy, but it’s all good. Last night was the first time I really thought hard about breaking the routine and eating something like a pizza, sandwich or burrito.

Good having rain. We experienced a relatively dry winter and spring. A friend sent numbers for the acre-feet of our local reservoirs, the Howard Prairie Dam. The measurements were taken on the same day, which they’ve been doing since 1968. In most years, it’s 40,000 plus acre-feet. 60,000 plus was not uncommon.

Then we have the last four years.

2018-04-17    38726.00

2019-04-17    27675.00

2020-04-17    16681.00

2021-04-17    05833.00

The reservoir was below 20,000 acre-feet only one other year in its history, 1992. It’s never been below 10,000 acre-feet, until this year.

That rain has my brain singing the 1982 song, “It’s Raining again”, by Supertramp. Think I’ll deploy it as today’s theme music, especially since rain has again begun pecking on the window.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Day six of the three-day green smoothie fast. Hello, it’s Earth Day. Happy Earth Day! It’s also Thursday, April 22, 2021. Huzzah.

We achieved sunrise in Ashland, Oregon, at 6:19 AM. Sunset won’t come until almost fourteen hours later, at 8 PM. Huzzah. We reached 72 degrees F yesterday and expect more of the same, what with a clear blue sky, loads of sun beams, and a current temp of 52. Huzzah.

I am quite hungry this morning. That prompted me to sing a bit of “Cheeseburger in Paradise” by Jimmy Buffett in my head. We eat Beyond Burgers in our household, which are plant-based burgers. My wife is a vegetarian. We also put vegan cheese on them. The side is usually a garden salad, but oven-baked tater tots often make the plate. Although, myself wouldn’t say no to a nice steak nor some roasted chicken. Yeah, for breakfast.

The 1971 Three Dog Night song, “Out in the Country”, came to me last night, though, as I gazed at the declining sunshine being flashed off the clouds in shades of pink and gold above the darkening, forested mountains. We’re out in the country, in a small town kind of way, a nice combination in a multitude of ways. I thought it would be a good song for Earth Day, so I post it here. It’s pleasantly green now. But…sigh, the rain has faded, the land is drying, and the heat is climbing. Much of it will soon turn brown. More will blacken with fire.

Or maybe not! Maybe not this year. Fingers crossed. Stay positive (boy, I’m trying – hope you’re better at it than me), test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Cheers

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Wednesday Wuthering

  1. On day five of the three-day green smoothie fast. Yesterday, besides three green smoothies, I enjoyed a few celery sticks, four prunes, a boiled egg, a cup of cubed watermelon, eight raw almonds and a handful of raw walnuts. I feel great, so why not continue? Sure, I was constantly mildly hungry throughout the day. And yes, my stomach talks to me in squeals, growls, and grunts all day, too.
  2. Okay, I cheated and ate a protein bar in the mid-afternoon.
  3. Well, the credit card ordeal might be over. Brief recap: was given new cards after reporting fraud on the previous cards. New cards received and activated. Wife wasn’t given chance to set her PIN. We tested: her old PIN didn’t work. Neither did my new one work on her card. Calls were made. A new PIN was set to her. We tested it. Nope. So, I commenced to pursue a fix. After spending over an hour on the phone with three different credit union reps, calling the numbers they specified, etc., I was turned over to a person in the credit card payment division. She listened to the tale. “You’ve been calling the wrong number.” I’d been calling the number the reps had given me. She gave another number. I called it. PIN changed, at least telephonically. We won’t be certain until we use it.
  4. Makes me wonder, though, you know? Why did it take so long for that number to emerge? Why is there a different number? Customer service and focus continues to die a slow death.
  5. Ah, technologically. I have a telemedicine call tomorrow. Video with a new family nurse practitioner. Annual event, to renew my meds for BHP and hypertension. Did the hardware check yesterday. Couldn’t connect to the video. Whaaat? The webcam worked last year. Went through all settings for hardware, software, security, privacy, etc. All was as should be. Even said that website had been given permission to use the camera. So…?
  6. Searched the web for advice and ideas. Microsoft, Kaspersky, HP. Talked to Chatbots for support. Uninstalled, reinstalled, updated drivers, rebooted machine several times, installed new webcam software, checked the device manager, registry, and so on. After three hours, the hardware check claims it works but I get nothing. Tested it on Zoom. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, except exasperation and frustration. Tested it this morning, just in case. No change.
  7. Forums are a joke in this regard. Many people reporting the same issue. No solutions found that work. Hell, most solutions were the previously-tried solutions. Ditto, the search engines on every browser and search site tried. They all regurgitate the same results. Remember GIGO? Garbage in, garbage out. Yep.
  8. Screw it, is my final position. I can use the iPad, which would be tres small. My wife generously offered me her iPad. That might be the way I go.
  9. Dad is out of the hospital. He was in at least two weeks, but don’t have greater details. He’d told me, don’t call, I’ll call you in a few days. That was weeks ago. He finally called yesterday. Has issues with fluid in legs. Turn bright red, swell, blister, etc., Medicos finally concluded, yep, heart weakening, kidney issues contributing. Wasn’t surprised, as he’s had COPD for decades. Some pulmonary issues were bound to reveal themselves. He’s in great spirits, mind remains sharp. That’s a tale I hear with many, many friends, though. I see the signs, and know where he’s going. Not unexpected, as that’s where we all go. Primary questions are about how long he’s in this declining state, how much pain and suffering he endures, and what his wife and family will experience during this watch.
  10. Dad and I are both retired military. Twenty-year vets. We receive pensions and healthcare. He retired about twenty-five years before I joined. That makes all the difference. He’s not paying anything for care. Tricare covers everything for him. Then launched into a “no wonder this country is going broke” stand. My Tricare is good, but I have co-pays. Dad does not. I have monthly premiums. Dad does not. I pay a small amount for prescriptions; Dad doesn’t. He also lives in San Antonio. A large military and retired presence there helps him. I live in rural southern Oregon. Time, age, location: that sums up the changes, right? Oh, yeah, and people are living longer, healthcare is constantly evolving, and it all costs. For example, he now has five people coming in each day to help him with different functions, from PT and leg exercises to bathing. He is married, and his wife is there, but I know how hard it is for a spouse to be a care-giver. She’s but a few years younger than him and has her own issues.
  11. Dissatisfied with offerings from U.S. television, we now watch a lot of foreign stuff. Mostly European. Dramas and comedies don’t work well, but thrillers, mysteries, and procedurals do. We try American offerings. We find them shallow, formulaic, and simplistic. Pretty people with fake issues to enhance tension dominate. Cry us another, you know? Right now, we’re watching Swedish, German, French, Italian, and British offerings. Don’t have anything coming out of Canada that entices me, which is a surprise. Same with the Aussies. But this might be the streaming gap, you know?
  12. Watching foreign television shows, we’re often entices by the settings. The procedurals often take place on the coast, an island, or a lake. They’re beautiful, intriguing places. I told my wife that we should set up tours to these places. That would cost a mint, and it’s impossible during the pandemic. If I had to chose one, I’d go to the Stockholm archipelago where “The Sandhamm Murders” is set.
  13. Okay, have my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.
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Monday’s Theme Music

Boom — it’s Monday. It’s like it happens every week. Today is April 19, 2021, which doesn’t happen every week. In fact, this date makes this day unique. Meanwhile, over in the sky, the sun came creeping around my back window in Ashland at 6:24 AM. It’s fully out now, and will steal away at 7:57 PM. Speaking of sun and long hours, yesterday cracked 80 degrees F but didn’t take us to the heat they’d been forecasting. We’ll strike the mid to upper seventies today.

It’s day three of our three-day green smoothie fast. It’s working well. Hard a handful of raw almonds, another handful of raw walnuts, a few celery sticks, and prunes, along with three smoothies. My favorite was the mango-pineapple-banana super-greens offering. Other than when I was out doing yard work and smelled someone’s Italian meal preparation floated through the air did I think, gotta eat. Didn’t, though. The smell reminded me of good food, but also things that Mom used to cook when I was a kid. Need to stop writing about it now because it’s having an adverse effect on my willpower.

Musically, “Brass in Pocket” by The Pretenders (1979) came to me after my shower, when I was drying off. Brass in pocket? Don’t know. My wife and I take little book-cations this year. A book-cation involves taking the book you’re reading, getting into the car, driving to the park, getting out of the car and finding a place to sit and read for a while. It’s just a break in routines and fresh air/experience nature opportunity. We went yesterday (got a new book to read, “The Resisters” by Gish Jen”) (yeah, finished “Circe”, “The Night Watchman”, “The Sentinel”, and “The Death of Vivik Oji”). When we did, though, I also took notebook and pen, like the old days, to think about the novel revisions and write through my thoughts.

How does “Brass in Pocket” fit in with that? Well, the song always struck me as a cocky attitude, a sort of ‘I can do this’ stance. I later saw confirmation of that in a Christine Hynde interview (she wrote the song’s lyrics). So, I suspect my mind pulled it out as an affirmation. It’s a good song for re-attacking a project, and a good song for a Monday.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Congratulations! You have made it to today, which is Saturday, April 17, 2021. I salute you.

Sol’s day began when he came creeping around the window at 6:27 AM in Ashland. He’ll be stealing away at 7:54 in the evening. That’ll give us a long period of sunlight. I will say, though, I was up on floof business at 4:15 and was surprised by the amount of light already in evidence. Yesterday was a wonderful day. The sunshine bookjacked my plans. I ended up in the backyard reading, enjoying the 73 degrees air. It’s already 60.

We’re starting a three-day green smoothie fast today. My wife is a big fan of this process. She makes green smoothies for us every day. The shopping expedition on Thursday was for firstly and mostly procuring more stuffs for the green smoothies. Power greens, pears, and a wide variety of frozen fruits were acquired. We already had a bunch of the stuff; just needed more. Fingers crossed that we make it all the way. Should add that I allow myself an exception. Yes, one cuppa coffee, black, no sugar, per day.

Today’s music is just stuck in my head. Been going since my eyes first groaned open to see what was going on with the three floofketeers. There were mutterings among them along the lines of, “He’s looking at me,” “He’s standing too close to me,” “Stop looking at me,” “I was here first.” They are fur children.

So, the song. “Save Your Tears” by The Weeknd was released in 2020. I sometimes think the title should be “Sve Yr Trs”. Guess the trs could be misconstrued as ‘trees’. That would be a good song: “Save Your Trees”. “Save your trees for another day.”

Sorry. Haven’t had any coffee. Or food. Smoothie is being prepared. I began making them. My wife came in and pushed me aside. No, I didn’t take it personally. Not at all. I didn’t stamp away muttering, “Fine. You make them.”

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax. Cheers

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A Rainy Dream

I was with some others. They remained misty and uncertain, voices on the periphery of my awareness.

We were to drive three identical Cadillac automobiles. Cream and brown two-toned sedans, I knew them as late 1940s cars, a model called ‘Sedan de Ville’. I was to be the driver of one of these three large cars.

Sheets of silvery rain were soaking the world outside the building where we talked, striking down visibility whenever I looked out a window. I knew we were in a city. We were addressing a large, electronic map. It showed the route to follow in thick dark green on a yellow background. Part of the discussion was about what to call our exits. Studying the map, I somehow came up with Jo Three, which struck me as funny. I explained why it should be called that and why it was funny but those details are lost to waking me.

Before leaving, white brunette women dressed in 1950s fashion presented each driver with two loaves of freshly baked warm bread. These loaves were set on the back shelf behind the rear seat, on on each side, in all three cars. I happily went about, checking the loaves, verifying what they were (rye, marble rye, whole wheat, etc.), and that each loaf was unique. Satisfied, I confirmed my loaves were where they should be, climbed behind the car’s massive steering wheel, and set off.

Rain still hammered the streets and sidewalks, denuding color so that everything resembled sepia photographs. With no wind, the rain fell straight down. Although it was day, street lights were on. The straight multi-lane roads were in good condition. Traffic was sparse. The place seemed familiar.

I saw a woman walking along a sidewalk under an umbrella. I knew her. I thought she was upset and decided that I needed to speak with her, and that I would offer her a ride. As I caught up with her, she was under an underpass at an intersection, waiting to cross the street. She crossed; I turned left, pulled alongside her, and wound the passenger window down. As she didn’t stop, the car continued parallel to her, propelled by the idling motor.

Leaning across the street, cold as mist came in the open window, I called, asking her if she wanted a ride, speaking loudly over the rain and the car’s engine. She declined, telling me that she enjoyed walking in the rain. I then apologized to her and told her that I understood why she was upset. She replied that she wasn’t upset, and that’s not why she wasn’t accepting a ride. She had been upset but now she just appreciated being alone, walking in the rain.

I accepted her answer and drove off. As I did, I looked back in the rearview mirror and watched her walking on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, getting smaller as the distance increased.

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The Mall Dream

A dysfunctional, post-apocalyptic world had arrive in the U.S. It wasn’t extreme. Shit had happened. Infrastructure and governments were failing, oil and gas were limited, food and water were scarce, and security was precious.

Somehow, I’d taken over a large mall.

I established myself as its ruler and then set up a society to live within it. I’d managed to make it secure, acquire food and drink, and we were generating power. Details aren’t available.

Friends of different times in my life heard of it. A large horde of them arrived as refugees. Everyone from childhood to the recent past were represented.

After greeting them outside on a sunny day, I took them in, assigning them spaces and familiarizing them with basic concepts: everyone works, no physical violence or abusive behavior, and respect one another. Break one of these, once, and you’re gone.

They quickly settled in. One favorite old friend, Don, became de facto representative of that particular group. He ended up hanging out with me a bit. They had suggestions for improvement. I thought them good and adopted the suggestions.

Meanwhile, I had two Mazda Miatas and gas for both. Both were green but different shades, with the new one being darker, almost forest green. I often drove the older one around. On this day, I decided to take the newer one for a ride. I invited Don along.

But first, I went around pissing on the mall floors. I pissed copiously, everywhere. I was then ready to go, but then regretted pissing everywhere. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I told Don. “I need to clean that up.”

Don, his cheerful, relaxed self, answered, “Don’t worry about it. We got you covered.” He pointed out there, where everyone was already mopping up my mess.

That’s where it ended.

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Would I Lie?

I enjoy watching “Would I Lie to You?” Hosted by Rob Brydon, Lee Mack and David Mitchell lead two teams. Two guest celebrities appear on each team every show, people like Bob Mortimer (who shares hilarious tales), Jo Brandt, Richard Osmen, and Greg Davis. The team members then tell a story about something that happened to them. The other team then guesses whether it’s a lie or true. Points are awarded. Yes, it’s British. My favorite episode involved Germane Greer and cannibalism. I love how the panels and Rob really get into the premise.

I stream it on Britbox via Amazon. I’ve watched many episodes more than once, tests to see how well my memory works as I try to recall if they’re lying or telling the truth. I’m usually wrong. I don’t think that bodes well for me doing my taxes in the future.

Whenever I watch the show, I think, what tales could I share? I’ve come up with one. First, the opening statement. That’s what’s used to launch the premise and cross-examination.

I once passed out three times trying to give blood just so I could have a doughnut.

They would ask the usual questions. When did this happen? Where? How old were you?

I’d answer, “I was in my early twenties, working at a bank in Pittsburgh, PA. The American Red Cross was having a blood drive in the lobby. If you give blood, you’re given a free doughnut. I really wanted a doughnut, so I took my place in line. Then, well, as I approached, I fainted.”

For some reason, as I write this, I imagine it being spoken in David Mitchell’s voice.

You fainted, will be repeated. I’ll nod, affirming that’s what happened.

Then?

“They put me on one of the little beds they had set up and gave me some orange juice. I returned to my desk, but I really wanted a doughnut. I got back in line and fainted again.”

They would ask me, “Was this your first time giving blood? Have you ever fainted before? Do you have a history of fainting?”

It was my first time giving blood. I’d never fainted before.

The ARC again put me on one of their little beds with orange juice. After I felt better, I returned to my desk. But…

I really wanted a doughnut.

I returned to the line, worked my way forward, and fainted again.

“A third time,” people exclaim. “Boy, you really wanted that doughnut.”

“Well, it was free,” I reply, “and I like doughnuts.”

“What kind of doughnuts were they? Were they special doughnuts?”

“Glazed.”

“Were you hurt whenever you fainted?” They would ask. “When you say, fainted, do you mean that — what do you mean?” (Lee Mack is questioning me; I hear his voice.)

“I swooned,” I answer. “My vision grew dim, my legs grew weak and then buckled, I lost consciousness, and found myself being helped off the floor.”

“How long were you out?” Lee asks.

“Not long, a few seconds, maybe ten seconds, I guess.”

“Did you ever get a doughnut?”

“No.”

Rob asks, “Well, Lee, it’s time to decide if he’s telling a lie or telling the truth.”

He’s lying, they agree. Nobody would get in line three times just for a doughnut. Or the ARC would give him a doughnut after the second time, to reward him for his efforts.

“It is a lie,” I tell them when the time comes. “The truth is, it wasn’t me; it was my sister.”

And that’s the truth.

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