Straight Outta Refinery Town

Went on a walk yesterday with the Rev, out near the old place. It was lovely. We saw ruby crowned kinglets, and cats sleeping in the sun in the grass next to the trail. We saw a mountain pooping out a cloud. 

And we had some great views of the refinery near where I used to live. Which reminded me that I wanted to share a photo of a painting done by one of my former neighbors -- a pastiche of the area surrounding the refinery and old downtown where we all lived. The view reminds me of the view from a different neighbor's rooftop apartment over the former shoe store where the artists all had their studios. You could sit on her roof and look out to the other rooftops, and see the refinery on the hill, and hear the pool balls breaking at the bar across the street. On Sunday mornings you could hear the choir singing in the church that had once been a punk nightclub, and a movie theater before that.

Another former resident of that town and I visited later in the day, unmasked. Why I didn't put my mask on immediately when she said her son was working in a restaurant, I don't know. Her phone rang, and she picked up. It was her husband. Where were their rapid tests? Son's chef has COVID. She bolted out of my house. Son tested positive, she tested negative, and I'm not leaving the house for a while.

I really have to be more careful, even though I really am.

Seiko S-282

 

Some Thoughts on 2022

I like cooking, and have made some dishes in 2021 that I'd contemplated making for years.

In the upcoming year I'd like to go through my recipe binder, which mostly contains recipes I have collected and *never* made, and to give some of them the old test drive. I already started with these two -- Minnie's Morsels for Mature Cats and Pumpkin Koftas in Creamed Spinach Sauce. And here's my review:

Minnie's Morsels? Hard thumbs down! I made it as a Christmas gift for a friend and they simply fell apart. Boo!

Koftas? Insanely delicious. I didn't find kale at the Pan-Asian grocery, but they had something called Chinese Spinach. And I had bought some chrysanthemum greens. And had some frozen spinach on hand. All of that and the herbs specified in the recipe made for a delicious and delicately herbal puree. And I think I will make more purees in the future. Love a new concept to add to my bag of tricks.

PS This recipe was made with my free pumpkin. I finally finished off the pumpkin by making another batch of soup. 

Holiday 2021 -- Xmas

On Christmas we did the same thing. Woke up in the morning, came back to our place, and had a nephew and family in for coffee and pastries.

They stayed a LOT longer than I thought they would, and it was really fun. The mama was totally zonked from the day before, and oldest neph cuddled her for two hours while she dozed and we all chatted.

Then came the part that mrguy likens to trying to get a cat out of the carrier at the vet -- it was time to take her home. We waited until halftime (she is a huuuuge basketball fan) and tried to dash. But she wanted to make every excuse to stay. "Who's going to clean that up?" she exclaimed, pointing to the coffee cups and plates. Then there was the trip to the bathroom (what takes her so long?) and finally the trip home.

Once we got there, she was agitated because she couldn't hear well. Then I changed her hearing aid batteries and she screamed at me because it was too loud, and she was worried that they'd confiscate her television because everybody down the street could hear. Let us leave all the other unpleasantness aside and praise Mary Berry and the Downton Abbey movie, which eventually settled her down completely.

Please remember to support your local public broadcasting station.

Holiday 2021 -- Xmas Eve

Christmas and Christmas Eve were multi-part affairs.

Christmas is a holiday for the caregivers, so I got a Covid test last week and was the official caregiver for the mama on those days. And only two visitors are allowed at a time at her place, and our nephew's family was going to be in town. So...I picked her up in the morning and then we visited family at our house and then we returned to her place for dinner and sleep because our house is under construction.

I know that my nephew said we should do something simple, but I also needed to do something that registered as festive for my mom, since we weren't having a classic Guy Family Christmas. So I made lunch for us all with stuffed potatoes. It was so fun to see them, and the boys are cat crazy and chased the cats around for a few hours and the mama was happy. Then we went back to her place.

I had brought presents and a simple dinner with expensive ingredients: lobster and shrimp ravioli, truffle butter and fancy gelato. And wine. I brought wine.

First there was the wine argument. I made dinner and poured wine for us. Admittedly it was 4:45pm, but that is 15 minutes past mealtime in mamalandia. She did not like the idea of wine at all. 

Mom: "Why are we drinking wine with breakfast?" 

Me: "It's dinnertime, and wine is a dinner beverage." 

Mom: "Don't we have any milk? We shouldn't be drinking wine because it's not ours to have. And what if they saw us drinking it?" 

Me: "I bought the wine, I brought it here, it is my wine, and I will drink yours if you don't want it." [I'm just realizing that this has a bit of the Peter J. Haskett cadence -- "You drank all the wine. You drank alllllll the vodka. You will go to O'Looney's and buy me more vodka."]

Mom: "You are just too clever"

Then she got wrapped up in the time of day, since that had been confusing to her. This is her challenging the clock, which sits on the wall under the thermostat.

It took me a while to figure it out, but a lot of the conversation during dinner came back to a central theme -- a desire to move somewhere else.

"People here are ok but people over there [points in direction of nearby wealthy city] are more sophisticated"

Translation: I think I'm more sophisticated than the other residents in my community and would like to live over there where people are more sophisticated and would understand me better.

"What will I do with all of this stuff?"

Translation: I want to move somewhere else, I feel overwhelmed by my possessions, and don't know how to move to a new place and/or get rid of my stuff.

Then she wanted to talk about Christmas ornaments. She proclaimed many many many many times that this was her favorite one. It is, indeed, super cute:

Oh yeah. Dinner. I have confirmed that I don't like lobster or truffles. And the mama didn't seem to be enjoying her dinner either. When asked if it was to her liking, the sophisticated lady stuck out her tongue and gave me a Bronx Cheer. I asked if I could make her something else more to her taste and she answered "Bran flakes".

Bran flakes it was.

Opening presents was also a great sadness for her. There were too many. She wished someone had given her just a scarf. People would think she was a Mrs. Gotrocks (woman of unseemly wealth).

So many rules, man. So many rules.

I slept on the sofa because I couldn't exactly figure out where the ladies had hidden the speaker for the bed alarm. After I tracked it down, I took refuge in the guest room and fell into grateful slumber.

One last thing -- a 93-year-old baby shoe. It's one of my favorite Christmas ornaments. It cradled the foot of a cheerful little child who is now my cranky mama.

Sex And The City

I loved SATC as much as the next person, but people are losing their minds over the reboot. 

For years, fans wanted more Sex. Knowing this, the Hollywood press asked Kim Cattrall over and over about returning to play Samantha. She all but SHOUTED "no". Nobody seemed to listen to her or believe her, because they wanted a different answer. It became a thing.

Planning for the show moved ahead anyway. It's probably easy to say in retrospect, but SATC was a very 2000s show. Placing those characters (and those actors!) in a post Me Too world would seem like a true challenge. It's a surprise to some that the show doesn't meet expectations...and every episode is greeted by the shrieks of the damned.

The surprise surprises me, and I'm ready to stop hearing about it.

Thank you for listening to my rant.

Pumpkins

As readers of mrsguy know, my neighborhood Buy Nothing group is the best. 

Last week someone was giving away pumpkins and I couldn't see them go to waste, so I raised my hand for these two beauties, which were much larger in person than they appeared in this photo. I juuuuust managed to herk one under each arm and get to the car.

Then the fun began! I made pumpkin risotto. And some of the best pumpkin soup of my life, which I served to my people on Christmas Eve. And pumpkin koftas, which were fabulous. More on that later. But I still have more pumpkin, so I think more soup is in the offing.

I am recovering from Christmas with the mama, so all I want to do today is cook. Mrguy asked me what my plans were for the day, and I declared that I was going to clean the kitchen, foul the kitchen and clean the kitchen. 

My idea of a good time.

A Different Kind of List for 2022. In the meantime, 2021

How about a plain old "Things I'd Like To Do" list for 2022? I'll work on that. But in the meantime, 2021.

Last year I made lime pickle (which nobody liked, but I made it).

This year I had some successes with:

• Plum sauce (makes me deeply happy)
• Marmalade (so fun to make!)
• Kefir (success! many batches!)
• Rhubarb pies (3. Not great. Stop me if I try again!)

I finally had my metal furniture powder coated after all these years.

I received and shared things on my Buy Nothing group (ex: today I'm picking up two pumpkins and giving away canna rhizomes). I gave away most of the things in my etsy closet and also gave away cat grass.

I supported and will appear in a documentary (upcoming).

I tried a juice fast and learned that I am not a juice fast person.

I finally found a reading lamp that is the perfect size.

I hired a cat therapist as seen on tv.

I hired a person therapist, originally for my sister and I, but ultimately for myself. It helped.

We started a lemon giveaway on our porch and now neighbors come by to receive lemons.

I bought my first Crocs (platform, tie die) and bought a second pair.

I ordered live ladybugs, twice. First batch was from Brooklyn.

I came to love my light pink camellias.

I inadvertently grew 13 tomato plants, gave half away, and ate yellow tomatoes much of the summer. Seeds are already in the ground for 2022.

I finally ordered vpn to allow me to use resources in distant libraries but ultimately figured out a way to simply subscribe to Bergens Tidende yesterday and find obituaries of my ancestors.

I bought my own allspice tree. It is alive, but not thriving.

I subscribed to a veggie box again and then stopped it when the winter veggies were in season.

Our doctor retired and now I have a young doctor who makes you do the things. I am doing (some of) the things.

And rather than chasing 2021 away with a broom, I am inviting in 2022 with hope and curiosity and crossing my fingers that I'll be able to find its beauty, no matter how small.

Bucket List 2021

A number of years ago I started a bucket list. And here I am looking at that list and rethinking it. Bucket lists are things that you work towards. Here's where I stand:

1. Take an exercise class with Richard Simmons

No longer in biz    

2. Ride a camel (not a location-specific goal)

A dear friend did this once and I was so impressed. But she's dainty and I'm a big fat hog and I don't want to hurt camels. I will strike this off the list.

3. Sit in the booth with Doreen Simmons while she comments on a sumo basho for NHK
Passed away. But perhaps I would like to sit in with Ross Mihara? Developing.

4. Write a book

I had a *specific* book I was writing, but downsizing makes me want to prioritize other things.

5. Meet distant family in Ireland

This turned into wanting citizenship. I tried so hard, spent so much money, hired an expert to assist, but was ultimately rejected by Ireland due to inconsistencies in the facts on paper. Thanks, Irish Grandfather. I can still try to pursue the original goal.

6. Play Carnegie Hall or Royal Albert Hall

Why did I want this to happen?

7. Be a balloon wrangler in the Thanksgiving Day Parade

If an opportunity comes up in the future, I will ask.

8. Volunteer in the Bishop Museum archives

This hasn't happened yet, and I'm not working on it, either. But I am transcribing Freedmen's Bureau records and that feels very satisfying.

9. Have our Hawaiian band sponsor a match in a sumo tournament in Japan

Too expensive. Band not together.

10. Play music at a retirement home
Done.

11. Learn to tie knots (as added in 2015)
I will give up on this because I clearly don't want to do it.

12. Sing the National Anthem at a baseball game
Done.

13. Perform in a pantomime horse costume

I still want this. 

Bathroom 2021-2022

We are three weeks into the bathroom remodel. Great to see the old, non-functioning stuff go, and I look forward to the addition of a new cabinet to the right side of the sink area, and floor tiles that aren't broken. Ok, and working plumbing in the tub/shower, since that broke right before the pandemic.

Woo!

So You Don't Have To

It turns out that my millennial friends don't listen to NPR on the radio on the way to work the way that I do, so much of this will be lost on them. However, for those who do -- this is for you.

For a billion years Susan Stamberg, she of the umami-laden voice, has shared her mother's recipe "Mama Stamberg's Cranberry Relish" on NPR right before Thanksgiving. It's a decades-long tradition that she dutifully spins into different takes on the recipe every year (with the recipe not changing). The older I get the more I think I will make the recipe. This is the year, my friends.

I made it, so you don't have to.

Why the fear of the recipe? The ingredients: horseradish, onion, sugar, sour cream, raw cranberries. Couldn't wrap my head around the combination. Didn't get around to it before Thanksgiving, but finally made it this weekend.

Guess what? It's effing delicious. My plan was to make the recipe and share small dabs of it with people on my Buy Nothing group who have wanted to experience it. But I might eat it all myself.

It looks like meatloaf when you're making it.

Here is the recipe, as shared by Susan Stamberg.

Adventures In Getting Stuff

Oh my Buy Nothing Facebook group is a constant source of entertainment. 

This week I'm getting rid of a tree stand and dividing my Yellow King Humbert canna rhizomes so I can share them with the group. And I got some magnificently awful plum preserves with rosemary and two non-denominational holiday garlands that go fantastically with the pimpy wreath from last year.

Thank you, People!

Adventures In Getting Rid Of Stuff

Ahhhhh. Feels so good to divest.

Today the youngest nephew, known to all as Weazel Boy or Weezbo, came to get a piece of furniture that had belonged to his great grandmother. Because doesn't every young man needs a bombé chest? 

One more thing out of the garage. Along with it, he was also the recipient of some of my dad's firewood, circa 1999, that I dutifully brought from the ancestral manse to ours. Both were just waiting for someone to love them.

     

Woooo!!

Gratitude

What do I love about the season? Lights. Lobsters. Leftovers.

Yesterday we put the lights on the deck, which we intended to do weeks ago but couldn't find the time to do. And I put up the COVID tree. Year 2 of the COVID tree. What do I love about the COVID tree? It's twinkly, the ornaments are amazing and it took 14 minutes to assemble and decorate. Makes me so darned happy.

Then I put the lobsters in Santa hats on the mugo pine in the front yard, just to give the local dog walkers something to talk about, and I am DONE!

We had a fantastic sunset last night, and I took the same photos as I did last year. Let the season begin! If by season, I mean twinkly light season.

Wooooo!!!

InGratitude

It's Thanksgiving and I am grateful for many things. And some others I just have to confront with humor and pissy-ness.

I am grateful that the first part of Thanksgiving was chill. That I decided to only have the mama over for one night. That choice let me cook the day before Thanksgiving and have most of the Thursday left for hanging out and watching the parade and the dog show with the mama, which was lovely for a while. Mom said that it was the smoothest parade ever, but I think she was maybe thinking that our meal preparation was the smoothest ever. I spent less of the parade and dog show cooking.

But the afternoon and evening were a complete pile of doo. Not exactly sure what happened, but the mama's mood turned foul and there were so many questions and no good answers.

I will back up and remind people that she doesn't understand that she has Alzheimer's. She can't retain information. Her natural instinct to blame and criticize and doggedly retain information that irks her (and then tell you all about it) is in full control. For this reason, you can't tell her anything. You can't tell her that she won't be sleeping in her customary guest bedroom because mrguy had a migraine and we decided not to move the furniture just for her one night of pleasure. You can't tell her that one reason she's spending the night is that her caregivers have the day off, and that she needs constant supervision in order to be safe. You can't tell her shit. But here's what she can tell you (if by you I mean me)

• Your hair is stringy
• You should do something with your nails
• It's a wonder you can find anything in your office
• Your husband should go stand on the corner where they put things that nobody wants
• You should have had me over for lunch, instead, and then taken me home
• Your cat is spoiled
• Your face looks sad
• Are you enjoying my car? (This is my car that I've faked her into thinking is hers)
• Are you enjoying the chair? (my dad's chair, which was my grandfather's chair and is now here)
• I should have kept some of the diamonds I gave you for your wedding ring for myself. Do you like your ring?
• You're rushing me to get out of here tomorrow
• 3am: I want to go home now
• 5am: I want to go home now
• To my brother: did you adopt two puppies so wouldn't be able to travel and see me?
• I wonder what the rest of the family is doing today? (this was especially awful because everybody was good about calling to wish her a happy Thanksgiving.
• I've never felt so unwelcome anywhere in my life

The negativity was relentless.

Lessons learned? Alzheimer's is hard for her every single day. She needs people to lash out at in order to feel like she has some agency in her life. Big lesson -- no more staying over at my house. I want to protect mrguy from her bullshit, and it doesn't seem like it's safe at night (she was really wiggly on one of her nighttime trips and I was afraid that she'd fall in the bathroom). 

I've worked it all out. I've already figured out how Christmas will work, and I have asked my older sister to take care of her on New Years Day. For years I have hosted the mama on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's and then my sister and I have taken her on a trip on her birthday. I'm already anticipating the fit she will throw, but at least she'll be throwing that fit at her place.

I Went Out

My title sounds like the name of an On Kawara piece. Yes, I did go out.

I decided to take some time off recently, because the year is ending and I don't want to leave it hanging. I started Day 1 by taking my mom and myself to the dentist. She arrived an hour early and I arrived 5 minutes late, so he took her back and started working on her issues. I hung out with #1, the best caregiver in the world. It was like old times. I remember our first meeting, when I asked her a question and she told me her life story. This time I was asking her the difference (flavor profile) between a Tongan curry and curry of a different place, like Fiji. As I recall, Fijian curry contains lots of nutmeg, which was surprising.

Around the 20 minute mark the story was winding up to a climax. But instead of learning about spice mix, I heard the story of moving back to Tonga to start a furniture manufacturing business, hiring workers on a work contract from Fiji and learning, by means of a goat in the front yard, that her employees were stealing materials and making furniture for people on the sly. "Nobody gives you a goat for nothing," she said. And then the mama appeared at the door, under escort of the doctor, and the story would have to wait to be finished.

After my *own* dentist visit and a year and a half catchup with the doctor, I was off to my favorite taco truck. Bought two burritos (so comforting!) and then went to doctor visit #2, which was with my brand new primary care doctor. I love her already. I gave her a workout, what with my medical history. And she sent me off with 9 different tasks to take care of before I see her again. And a tetanus shot. And the Shingrix vaccine, which I've heard is a hard one.

The next day I scheduled my obgyn, colonoscopy, echocadiogram, thyroid scan, blood tests, orthopedist appointment, and some other stuff. And the Shingrix started to kick in. I am so grateful to have this vaccine, but it messed with me. The following day was a party to celebrate the newest line of forklifts, and I was *thisclose* to staying home. I attended, wearing my jammies and under the power of much ibuprofen. After the big reveal of the forklifts it was time to go to the ladies' room. Whoa! It was like the before times. No masks, people standing in line close together -- it felt dangerous. I told mrguy that I could hold it just long enough to make it home. So we hoofed it on out of there and I went to bed in those same jammies.

Shingrix is real, people. It will have been worth it but it kicked my ass for several days. 

Adventures in Making Stuff: Kefir

A woman on my buy nothing group was giving out kefir grains. Mrguy likes kefir, and I wanted to try it, so I raised my hand and now I'm doing the things!

It's beyond easy. You take the kefir grains (tapioca-like balls, swimming in milk snot), add them to some fresh milk, cover with a semi-permeable barrier (I use a coffee filter) and wait. In one day it's kefir, a fermented milk product that is tasty and super good for you. I have been flavoring mine with some pureed berries and adding a little sugar. 

Here it is getting ready to be kefir. Hiding behind some cat grass that I'm giving away to the people on buy nothing.

And here it is after I've flavored it. 

The whole group of us that she gave grains to are having a good time adding kefir to things (instead of buttermilk in pancakes, for example) and basically geeking out.

Good times! I had heard of making kefir but couldn't quite picture the process until I was gifted the grains.

And now I am one!

Halloween Update

I completely forgot that what I *do* like about Halloween is mrguy's enthusiasm. He enjoys making a scary Jack-O-Lantern and giving candy to kids.

He hit it out of the park on the pumpkin. And I have to say it looks smashing on the blue chair.

The kid part was mixed. We live on a dark, hilly block that nobody comes to. Our neighbors from a few houses down brought their kids over. And a cute duo appeared at our door wearing white outfits with orange pillows taped to their tummies (they were sake nigiri). Mrguy brought in the pumpkin and put the lemons back in their basket on the blue chair. Then about 15 minutes later a crowd appeared, and I heard clamdip at the door saying I'd be home. Much doorbell ringing ensued as I scrambled to find the candy. Clam had brought pretty much all of the neighborhood kids with her. So cute! One of the girls got really excited because we had lemons on our porch and asked if she could take them (that's what they're for). Those lemons made her happier than the candy, I think.

Anyhoo, a few days later I thanked the Jack-O-Lantern for his service and made him into soup. It was definitely a mrsguy kinda soup, featuring what I call "pie". What is pie? Once I had my sister over for dinner and I made a dessert that consisted of a fruity, blended sauce poured over some pound cake. What's in the sauce? Frozen berries and pie. Pie? Yeah, I had a piece of pie in the fridge so I put it in the blender with the other stuff. It was delicious, as pie often is.

In this case, pie was all the good stuff from the freezer. Some frozen leftover red curry pumpkin sauce from the Thai restaurant, homemade chicken stock, and some liquid from an eggplant dish that I made many times in the last few months. And then a little bit of store-bought curry powder.

It tasted fantastic. And now on to the Holidays.

Halloween

Lucky you! I have complicated feelings about Halloween. First, I never had my own ideas about how to dress. As a young kid I was dressed up by my older sister: a bunny (she dressed Chinese), and for kindergarten, I was dressed as a Famous French Painter. Because in 1966 that was going to be easy to explain. I had a friend a few years later who had all the ideas: sea otter, stained glass window -- whatever she came up with I *also* wanted to be, because I had no ideas of my own.

Once, when I was in my twenties, I did a retread of 1965 -- I put on my boyfriend's "coolie" hat and the satin jammies that my granny got in Hong Kong...did eyeliner and put on Opium perfume. Looked in the mirror and went WTF!!! You can't dress as Chinese in 1986! Realizing what I had so easily done without thinking (And hello! I took Asian American Studies in college), I decided to declare that I was dressed as a "Racial Stereotype," explaining for the rest of the night how wrong I was.

Similarly, there was a trend when I was in middle school to dress as a "hobo". It was the easiest and most relaxed outfit. We didn't know about homelessness. Makes me sad when I think about it.

Twenty years ago I landed a job at the home of competitive Halloweening. I don't always get the references, and sometimes the outfits are inspiringly clever, so I just watch.

Then there's the nighttime part of Halloween. The part where you interact with children. The awkward times. I let mrguy do the candy giving because he's better at it. Speaking of awkward, my aunt from Norway was unaware of Halloween customs when she visited us in October of 1973. She answered the doorbell, and brought the little lion who had run the bell into the kitchen. His frightened parents retrieved him a few minutes later.

I think the last straw on Halloween for me was the infamous gig at the brewery. Our bandmate in the Hawaiian band loves Halloween, and doesn't love that we play music in the Hawaiian language (only one of us has a connection to Hawaii). She was quitting the band after we had had periodic conversations about her discomfort with playing Hawaiian music as non-Hawaiians. And I love her but don't love Halloween. She got us what would be our farewell gig at a brewery and at the last minute she asked us to play The Monster Mash and the theme to the Addams Family.

We played the gig at the brewery. We set up our own PA. We played Hawaiian and Monsterian music on the sidewalk of a busy street, next to the Taco Bell drive-thru window. The brewery, which makes beer, did not give us beer or pay us.

This has been "What I Hate About Halloween" by mrsguy. I'm going to try to get over it now. It's no fun to be waiting for Halloween to pass, especially when Halloween is now a season. 

I'd rather go to church.

Jaggery

I'm kinda obsessed with apples right now, which is good. Every other week my mom's caregiver brings the mama to my house, and with her a hoard of apples. They're available for the taking at the dining room at my mom's community. She takes and never eats, and then they come to me.

I started making applesauce with them recently, and decided that I'd use jaggery instead of white sugar. It turned out delicious, and now I'm strung out on that particular recipe. What is jaggery? It's a sugar that is less purified. The jaggery we had in the house was from an Indian IPA recipe mrguy was brewing for a time, and I've been using it over the years for sweetness and funk when cooking. Using it is a labor of love, because it is packaged in hard lumps that have to be grated or even microplaned before you can  measure it. 

The other day I used the last of our 1lb bag. Mrguy ordered some from Whole Foods and it arrived...granulated. It will have a place in our pantry but it smelled more like a granular molasses than the musky, funky and almost savory flavor I've come to love. So today I will go in person to the South Asian grocery and see what they have. Crossing my fingers that they'll have OG jaggery and not this newfangled powdered stuff.

In the meantime, Atlas Obscura has served me this article about a Russian sweet called pastila, which is a labor-intensive apple meringue. I want to make it so badly but today's oath is "No cooking, only eating".

It Comes From Old Indian Mummies

Toward the end of his life, my pop spent as much time as he could away from the home, and specifically time away from my mom. He owned a firewood business, and the trips away were firewood gathering jaunts, out to the farmland where he could chat up farmers and get dibs on rows of their old apple and almond trees destined to be felled and replaced. Apple and almond are nice, hot-burning hardwoods.

Yeah. Maybe he did that. But the top level goal was more the *away* of it than the *firewood* of it. True: if he kept the firewood coming in, he could keep the business going, the business that consisted of a run-down RV next to a wood pile on a dead spur of the Southern Pacific. That's where he spent his days during the weeks when he wasn't in his car talking to farmers. All of this made him happy. 

Pop liked to tell stories, a trait that he passed down to most of us, unfortunately for him, since he's now the butt of a "story". I remember him telling me about Valley Fever which he told me, in a conspiratorial tone, came from "old Indian Mummies". Even then, in the 1980s, I would have been telling him "It's Native American", and rolling my eyes into the back of my head because it was so preposterous.

Fast forwarding into the twilight days, the old man would go on his firewood adventures, often staying at a particular motel in Mo-town. Healthwise, he was in no shape for these trips. He was on a lot of blood thinners and stumbled around in the night (probably due to a mix of peripheral neuropathy and adult beverages) and he often returned to us with a story about some accident that had happened in his room and how many hand towels it had taken to sop up the blood and how embarrassed he was and how he might have to find a different motel next time. Not that he'd be more careful or that he'd take my mom with him or do anything different -- he'd just hide out in a different motel.

Which brings me to near the very end. Pop went to the valley on one of his trips. He was not expected to be back for days but came home, instead, by late afternoon. This is a man with peripheral neuropathy, congestive heart failure, abdominal hernias, major deafness, major stubbornness, has had a couple of heart attacks. He goes to the valley and gets out of the car. It's over 100 degrees. The heat washes over him. He leans against the car to brace himself (he tells me later) and a guy comes over to him and says "Hey Mister. Are you o.k.?" Pop realizes he's in bad shape so he gets back in the car and drives home. He tells me this story and says:

"I think I have Valley Fever."

Thought of him today as I read that Valley Fever is on the rise due to global warming. Is it like where the permafrost is thawing and suddenly you have a lot more wooly mammoths and ice persons floating to the surface?

Didn't think so. Here's the article.

Release the Kraken

If by Kraken you mean ladybugs. 

I have a spider mite, scale and aphid infestation in the aku room. Trying to see what ladybugs can do to help. Mine were born in Brooklyn. So far they aren't even interested in the aphids. 

Mrguy says they need to "settle in".

Updates as they occur...

Banana Bread

Last Friday someone at work posted a meme about brown bananas.

Like many other people in the world who saw the meme over the last year, I felt impugned and made banana bread immediately. Did I mention that my chest freezer REEKS of frozen bananas? 

The resulting banana bread was one of the most beautiful of my life. I told mrguy to please let it cool and let me take a photo before diving in.

He did, but then forgot to cover the pan, which should not be a problem in a right and just world. However worst-cat-in-the-world-boy-kitten quickly located the bread and ate the best part of it (the top). It did not agree with him. He got violently ill and pooped everywhere at 4am. I thought I'd cleaned it up. Got back in bed, rolled over and put my hand in a puddle of cat glop on the duvet. So gross. I had to wash the rug, all of the linen, myself and the cat. 

But the banana bread was gorgeous, right?

Cat Grass Farming

Boy kitten really likes his grass. I used to think that having grass would help substitute his obsession for eating my pillow cases. Turns out he has room (and passion!) for both in his diet.

Cat grass is a racket. You can buy a pot for $3.99 from the nice pet store people down the street. Or you can make it yourself, which I decided to do recently. I bought a thirteen dollar bag of Non-GMO wheat, grown in Kansas. When I went to put it away in the cupboard I noticed an old three dollar bag of wheat that I had already open, and that's what I used instead. 

At the same time, I'm trying to re-use plastic containers that come our way. So I stabbed some holes in the plastic egg cartons that come from a person giving away eggs on my Buy Nothing group and went to work making cat grass. Here are my grass starts.

I reuse the original cat grass pots, add more dirt, place the starts in the pot, add little more dirt. Water. Wait.

Voila! Boy kitten has been working on this one a bit and finds it to his liking.

It's little things like this that make me happy.

Summer's End

I really wanted to call this one Summer's Eve, because that's the name of an old school feminine hygiene product. My friends, and one in particular, would approve.

Sometimes she calls me her best friend. And I used to confidently refer to her as mine. But right now she wants some space. We had a year of Pandemic Monday phone calls, initiated by me. I never bailed. I didn't really consider whether I wanted to talk, because for the first time in forever I had her attention. We talked about every single thing on the face of the planet. And now that we're not stuck in the house any more, she has time for everybody else. Right after the trust had been rebuilt and my heart opened she indicated that she'd like to let me know when she wanted to talk again. The longer it goes, the more I understand what I had previously misunderstood. I have to say that it feels cruddy. But whatever. It isn't like we haven't done this before.

In the meantime the summer is ending and the days have been beautiful. I harvested tomatoes and then cut down my tomato plants yesterday. Then I cleaned up a bit in the aku room. The tomatoes were not plentiful but were delicious. I still find it fairly miraculous that I kept the seeds stuck to a paper towel for a year and then mistakenly flicked them onto some dirt and made 13 tomato plants. Gave some to friends. Grew the others myself because I felt guilty that they'd lived. And the other day I was able to eat a sun-warmed tomato while feeding the wee beastie.

It could be so much worse.

Adventures in Powdercoating, Part 2

The tables and chair came out looking great and I am so happy.

First, I heard that the tables were done and I could come pick up and then choose the color for my chair.  So I did that (I was working from home).

Witness the beauty of the table. It was rusty and sad before, and it was free because my sister left it behind when she moved to the Midwest. Now it is beautiful.

Then I had to pick out a color for the chair. What I really wanted was a blue-violet. But my choices were limited. They'd just painted a firetruck, so there was red. I knew there was yellow because they were working on coating some bollards for the roads agencies. There was teal (barf) and a translucent blue that I was too chicken to take, and then there was this blue. A very 1975 elementary school blue. I like it.

They told me that I could pick it up in a few hours and it looks effing amazing. It is smooth and bright and beautiful. I still have to make a new seat for it, but I put it right back out onto the porch and put my Buy Nothing Project giveaways on it. Makes me so happy.

Here are a few photos of the progress and the result:

What can I paint next? This level of transformation is addictive!

Adventures in Powdercoating

I have a favorite chair that is super beat. I *think* I bought it at a garage sale when I lived in my first apartment. I thought it was SO COOL. I still do, but it looks really funky.

So I asked mrguy how to use a sander, and I had this unrealistic picture of myself sanding this chair down to the metal (which I thought was wrought iron) and clear coating it. Then I actually tried doing this. Boy was it challenging! I kept replacing the sandpaper and stopping to rest my hand, and after a solid 35 minutes I was ready to stop. I realized that I needed help.

I decided to look for sandblasting and powdercoating services, found one, and they do furniture as well as their big industrial jobs. On Friday I took some time off work, brought my chair and two other pieces. One little table I must have gotten from the flea market. I remember having glass cut and ground for it at one point, but most recently I had some bright blue plastic cut to order. Swingin! The *tall* table was left behind by my sister when she moved to Minneapolis. I had red plastic cut to order for it. 

When I realized that I could get more items sandblasted and painted under the minimum order, I brought those two tables along with the chair. I will paint those two their original black when they're done, and the chair? Who knows? I've asked them to give me a call so I can come in and choose a color.

To the left of my items is an order that's ahead of me in line -- some radiators. They are going to be gorgeous! And V., the customer service person, showed me some electric blue clear coat that had been added over chrome on part of a car fender. These people have me fantasizing about what else they can do.

There's more to the story. V told me that her bosses are 29, and she worked with them when they were 17 years old, at the metal painting service. Later, these kids went off and started a metal fabrication business, but always used the services of the painting service they used to work for. A few years ago they heard that the painting service was closing, so they bought it. They brought the whole crew over, and they run the two businesses. They called up V, who had worked with them back in the day and asked her if she would come back and work with them, so the whole gang is back together.

I can't wait to go back!

The Big Cat Put His Paw On Us

The Big Cat summoned us for some hard work yesterday. Two days before, I'd seen a cat sleeping in an unusually vulnerable way in our yard. You could have easily mistaken him for the dirt and mulch that he'd settled into. When I noticed him next to the path, I sat down and spoke softly to him. He hissed, and scrambled away. He was in bad shape -- seemed to have arthritic legs, maybe. I kept an eye out for him.

Yesterday I saw him again. He was thin, with a stern face whose fluff stuck out at the cheeks. He hissed. I thought he had a raw drumstick with him. Then I realized it was his paw.

I went inside and got some food, heated it up and brought it to him. He backed away, but within a few minutes most of it was gone.

I could describe our actions in detail, but they don't really matter. The kitty is now gone. He had chosen our yard as his place to leave the world. Many people helped us yesterday with advice and a humane trap. Perhaps if we'd seen the kitty ten days earlier he might have had a chance, but by the time we saw him he was beyond saving.

Our cat guru held a seminar on grieving yesterday. Had I only known. It was a day too soon.

As we always say at times like this, love to all kitties everywhere.

Cat Silhouette Day

So far no update on the Prozac, but I'd say we're up to the point in cat compliance and good-boy-ness we saw right before the setback. So all gains have been regained and we're looking for some good results from new meds. In the meantime, summer has been lovely (lots of fog in the morning and pretty sunsets and gave us some good cat silhouettes. Why not make it a thing?

In the meantime, no mama today and I am enjoying a day off. Woooooo!

Medicine For Boys

We continue to work with the wee beastie to settle him down and see if we can finally integrate him into the household with the other kitties. There was a setback a few weeks ago, and we backed up on our strategy and just about then it was time for him to have his annual checkup. I asked Dr. Karen if we could try more drugs.

The baby is on Gabapentin, which makes him less agitated. And recently we added CBG, which is having a small but marked positive effect. We're clicker training him and I have NPR going in the bedroom, which seems to calm him down also. But really. We need more ammo in the arsenal we're using to slay the inner beast. We need to know that he's not going to hurt the other cats with rough play and general beastliness.

Today's the big day. Prozac day. We're adding a SSRI, and we'll see how it works. But for now, some recent sweet photos of my little boy.

Plum Sauce 2021

In 1993 mrguy and I went to New Zealand, where we visited friends, saw tons of music, went to many barbeques, and ate some amazing plum sauce. The recipe was from the Edmonds Sure To Rise cookbook, something that everybody in NZ grew up with and had at least one of. A friend gave us an old copy of the cookbook, and as soon as there were plums to be had, which I think was in our second place in the refinery town, I made some of the sauce. It became my go-to ingredient in salad dressing and in maki sushi. The stuff lasts for years but I was almost out of my last bottle, and plum season is short so I'd been thinking ahead.

Last year my neighbor did not make use of his plums, and they were all over the sidewalk. I had been waiting to ask if I could glean his trees this year when I went around the corner and saw that he'd chopped his trees down (part of the neighborhood deforestation). So I gave up the idea of plum sauce.

But last week a neighbor offered his up to the community and I pounced. I had everything I needed but mace. I posted on my Buy Nothing Facebook group to see if anyone had 1/4 tsp of mace required for the recipe and a kind woman put a bag of mace blades on her porch for me. It was ON!!

And now I have plum sauce for the next bunch of years.

So good.

So grateful.