I don't think I will ever enjoy Christmas as much as I did when I was a child. Back then, seemingly, all I needed to do was wear a silver - as silver as Christmas tinsel - visiting dress:
Or kneel by the tree and play with the fire engine which was undoubtedly meant for my brother:
...in order to know that the very summit of the year had been reached, the time of the bright exhale.
Christmas was the decorated, fragrant tree and a house that was remarkably changed. I had nothing to do with this - I would just watch my parents bring the holiday inside to dazzle us.
Now, during the course of the years, there have come worries, disappointments, petty ugliness and cynicism: the detritus of adulthood, of living on your own. These bruises have hurt the innocence that dared to look forward to a day because it was...happy.
But there is one good thing. Now, every Christmas it is up to me to decorate some lucky tree waiting with evergreen hope beside its brethren in some orchard/hardware parking lot. It is up to me to transform my apartment with shiny things and swathe it with all the radiance of the season. And then on The Day, I will invite my parents over so I can dazzle them.
I did it though. I got out and moved for 20 minutes or so. I went back inside, swaddled myself in fleece and thick striped socks and laid back on the couch to watch re-runs of law & order (they are always on, that and golden girls but I dont watch them, really I dont, okay maybe once in a while...)
*I wasted several weeks when I should have been making soap for christmas. Now I am rushed, I have been making a batch a day to have them cured in time for christmas. In fact a couple wont be good until two days after christmas. Ooops. Now I cant lay my head on the couch and watch
I only have one more batch to go, mint will be made tomorrow. Then I can get all those pots and pans and molds and cooler and oils in the garage again. They are crowding my kitchen.
*It is so cold. Frosty mornings. I want to go take pictures, but it is so cold out there. I have not been taking very many pictures lately. I just have not felt the motivation.
*while bringing in a load of wood for the wood stove I cracked my knee on the door frame. It is so dark blue now. I cursed a blue streak (what exactly is a blue streak?). This happened two days ago and even now it is throbbing. I really smashed it. A few weeks ago I stubbed my toe on one of those strips the put in the doorways to separate carpet from wood floor or in my case wood floor from linoleum (I know it is really vinyl, but I love the word linoleum). Well I managed to stub it so hard that it bruised me under the nail, it looked like it bent the nail back. Strange thing is that I have NO idea how that could even be possible. Seriously, how does one bend a toenail back on something that cannot grab your nail? I cried a little and cursed another blue streak. This happened weeks ago and it is still a little tender.
*Mr. L said he will hook up the Wii tonight. I am excited about this.
*pandora has now played 6 Beatles songs, 4 radiohead, and
*I am going to make an eye appointment soon. My sight has become rather bad lately. It is time for Lavender to get glasses. I want some cool, hip, retro, cat eye style frames. I hope I can find some that fit my personality and style and face. I also hope the three spots I have been seeing for quite some time are no big deal. one is starting to bother me when I read. I am scared.
*Just got the mail. I hate it when junk mail reads "This is NOT Junk Mail". Liar!
*I think I am going to go heat up some apple cider and cozy up on the couch and watch some
I've just gutted my entire house, right down to the studs, and am slowly rebuilding it. After months of nothing but demolition, I'm finally starting to reverse the process. My bathroom contractor is working today to get ready for my tile guy. The insulation guy worked yesterday, so the house is nice and cozy now. (Right, except that I have to put the windows back in.) On Tuesday, the sheetrock guy comes to start putting my ceilings and walls back.
Just as soon as I wrap up my work in the attic: 2 more ceiling joists to sister, one more ceiling fan mount to install, plus 3 more fixture mounts for other lights. I'd planned to sister all the 5 ceiling joists that need it this weekend, but Tuesday I created a little emergency. While trying to rip out a piece of planking in the wall that had bowed and split--thereby preventing the sheetrock from being flush--I discovered that two of my ceiling joists were actually resting on that plank, instead of on the exterior load-bearing wall. The reason? when the foundation failed in the 40s that wall bowed out about three inches, and the joists slipped off it.
Which is how I broke my nose. With all that weight on the plank, it was under a lot of pressure, so when I finally managed to pry it off the studs, it came loose at high speed and whacked me in the face. I blacked out for about a second, before that little quiet voice in the back of my head kicked in. You know, the little voice that whispers, "Maybe you shouldn't take that short cut," and "Get up and check the door." My little voice said, "Don't fall off the ladder."
I didn't. I managed to get myself down the ladder, my head ringing, and my dust mask filling up with blood. As I was just starting to wonder how badly I'd fucked myself up, I heard this soft groaning sound and looked up. Above me, the ceiling was sagging about three inches. Not terrible, but likely to become so.
This was at about 8 pm, and who was I going to call for help? Sure, 911 would take care of my face, but they wouldn't do anything about my ceiling joists. So I went out to my truck, grabbed the jack, and a couple of 2 x 4's on my way back through the garage. I slapped one 2 x 4 up to the ceiling with a pair of screws (thank you, trusty cordless drill), wedged the other one up under it, balanced on top of the jack, and cranked the ceiling back up to the proper height. Contrary to my expectations, it worked perfectly. After all, that little jack was designed to lift one quarter of my truck, so it was strong enough to lift one tenth of my ceiling.
Then I could worry about my nose. Luckily I still have a kitchen sink, so I went it and pulled the dust mask off. Blood, lots of it. I washed off a bunch of it, but I didn't have a mirror, so I couldn't really see what the damage was. I had half a bag of ice in the freezer, so I grabbed that, stuck it on my face and drove to my temporary digs.
I kept the ice on it for about five hours, and that seems to have done the trick. I have a bump, a bruise, and my eyes are a little black, but my nose is straight. I'm pretty sure it's broken, because I can feel it wiggle when I laugh, and my eyebrows actually hurt.
Episode 2 was me calling into work sick the next morning. Only I didn't stay home. I couldn't. I went to the house and crawled up in the attic to sister in the three joists that just couldn't wait for this weekend. Then I had to repair and replace the plank I'd originally been intending to fix when it bitch slapped me. I won the rematch.
Amusing and informative video from UNCG!
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When you're laggin' behind an' losin' your pace
In the slow-motion crawl or life's busy race
No matter whatcha doin' if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of your cup
If the wind got you sideways it's one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slippin' and the feelin' is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but you're lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know that it's wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin'
And your rope is a-slidin' 'cause your hands are a-drippin'
And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashin' and the thunder's a-crashin'
The windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops are shakin'
And your whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
An' to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?" And you start gettin' chills and you're jumpin' from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And you're knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world's watchin' with a window peek stare
And your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flyin'
And your heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet
But you need it badly an' it lays on the street
And your bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Your eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterday's rush
When you were faked out an' fooled while facin' a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
It's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on your mind that you wanna be sayin'
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
An' your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and you're starin' at his teeth
And his jaws start closin' with you underneath
And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
You say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hangin'
On this pathway I'm strollin', this space I'm taking
And this air I'm inhaling?
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailing
On this mandolin I'm strumming, in the song I'm singing,
In the tune I'm humming, in the words that I'm thinking
In the words I'm writing
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make your heart pound
But then again you know when they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
'Cause sometimes you hear 'em when the night time come creeping
And you fear they might catch you sleeping
And you jump from your bed, from the last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of your thinkin'
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that's somethin' special you're needin'
And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healing
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding You need somethin' special
You need somethin' special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows your troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rolling long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that you're standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many times you might get kicked
You need something special, all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said, maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And your trouble is you know it too good
'Cause you look an' you start gettin' the chills
'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dim-lit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Rantin' and ravin' and takin' your money
And you thinks it's funny
No, you can't find it neither in no night club, no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
No matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on your ticket stub
No, it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in a cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hairdo or cotton candy clothes
Ain't in the dime store dummies an' bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knocking and tapping in Christmas wrapping
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute, look at my skin,
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow,
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry,
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No, you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made of paper maché
And inside of the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn you in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind your back, my friend,
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all the rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're fooling you
The ones that jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down your hat
Saying, "Christ, do I gotta be like that?
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty, that stuff ain't real": No, but that ain't your game, it ain't your race
You can't hear your name, you can't see your face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that you're seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you go to Brooklyn State Hospital You find God in the church of your choice
You find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In Grand Canyon
Sundown
In an effort to consolidate all things bloggy and potty (euw)...I'm moving most of my blogging activity, posting of items and all general stuff to:
But that doesn't mean I'm abandoning this space. At least...not entirely. I'll try to crosslink updates and of course, I need to keep this account active to keep an eye on you hooligans.
Paris trembles under many lights. Looking down on the city, it meanders like a circle of galaxies.
During the Second Empire, in the mid-19th century, Paris was a delightful gamine, overdressed with crinolines and diamond sandals. She was a shocking, immoral child - but always held back with the soft ribbons of etiquette, always wearing an extravaganza of couture.
Paris was also an epicurean state, with a history of exotic tastes, extravagant meals and wasteful, profligate menus. There is one story of a dinner that was served during this time:
Waiters stood tall and handsome as they shouldered a lengthy, silver platter. It was covered, and heavy. They were en route from the kitchen to the dinner table, only this time the kitchen wasn't below stairs, but upstairs, in milady's boudoir.
Beneath the silver cover, the feast reclined in the edible darkness. She thought luxuriously of the corsets, taffetas, crinolines and sandals left behind in her 'kitchen'. But the black pearls - product of an oyster's imagination and passion - still rested around her neck, floating atop a milky sea.
Bouquets of lilies and violets tickled her shoulders and knees - staining her skin with a layer of perfume. Petals curled in her hair, and she tapped their glossy colors with her fingers, feeling their tints run through her hands. Her veins were now a delicate cartography of blue, lavender, bronze and mint.
It was well known throughout the city that the finest chef in the country was on this lady's staff. But for this one night only, she would be the one presenting the most delicious flesh in the Empire.
"What! That girl leaning forward? Oh, that is a distinguished member of the demi-monde. She is but just arrived from Paris, where her beauty, her wit, and her profligacy were the theme of every tongue. I have met her there frequently, so, if you want an introduction I will give it to you - her name is Cora Pearl."
Since I have had nothing to say lately I will post this...
http://rescuemarriage.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/chains_of_love_t-shirt.gif
It was supposed to be a pumpkin cheesecake for Thanksgiving dinner. My first cheesecake for A, who's never had one because they are usually made with eggs. Inspired by the fatfreevegan recipe.
We canceled the dinner due to an emergency. I went to hunt for canned pumpkin on Black Friday and found nothing. Nada. All the grocery stores in town had run out of canned pumpkin.
Enter, the sweet potato. The savior of our weekend.
2 cups graham cracker crumbs ( I will use 1.5 cups next time- the crust was a bit too thick )
4 tbsp butter/margarine, melted
1/4 tsp nutmeg, powdered
1/4 tsp cinnamon
2 tbsp sugar
- Mix together all ingredients and press down in a springform pan/ cake tin. I used a pie dish. Bake in a 350 degree oven for ten minutes. Cool.
Ingredients for filling:
8 oz cream cheese (Use tofutti for a a vegan version)
1 block (12 oz) firm silken tofu
1 cup sweet potato, roasted, peeled, mashed ( or 1 cup pumpkin puree)
1/2 cup agave nectar/honey/maple syrup
2 tbsp corn starch
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp powdered ginger
1 tsp vanilla
- Blend all ingredients really well in a food processor/blender. Pour into the crust and spread out evenly with a spatula. Bake in the 350 degree oven for 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle does not come out wet. Remove and cool on a wire rack for an hour. Add topping if desired. Chill in the fridge for at least three hours before slicing.
Topping: optional.
1 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped fine
1/2 cup milk
1/2 tsp cornstarch
1 tsp cocoa powder
1 tbsp maple syrup
A handful of toasted, slivered almonds
- Mix the first five ingredients together and gently bring to a simmer in a nonstick pan. Stir continuously until the chocolate dissolves and mixture thickens to pudding consistency. Cool and pour over the cheesecake. Spread with a spatula and sprinkle almonds on top.
This was good. Really good. It did not quite have the tang of a real cheesecake, though. Next time, I'll try to use the standard brand of cream cheese and maybe add a tbsp of lemon juice.
A very happy Thanksgiving to you. Remember the best shopping tip of the week- stay home and shop online!
What about Thanksgiving food, you say? Having failed to find a single can of pumpkin in the entire city, I finally made a sweet potato cheesecake that is cooling in the fridge. In the meantime, here is a light Panang curry.
Ingredients-
1 tbsp canola oil
1 tsp cumin
1 tbsp fresh ginger, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp peanut butter
1 tbsp chilli paste (sambal)
1/2 tsp turmeric
1 cup water
3 kaffir lime leaves, chopped ( or use 1 tsp lime zest with 1 tsp lime juice)
1 tsp sugar
1/2 cup coconut milk
14 oz firm tofu, cubed
2 cups carrots, chopped
1 cup baby corn, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
a handful of thai basil, chopped
salt to taste
Heat oil in a skillet. Add the cumin seeds and let them sizzle. Add ginger and garlic and saute for a few seconds. Then add turmeric, peanut butter and chilli paste and saute for thirty seconds.
Add the water, kaffir lime, sugar and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down to a simmer, add coconut milk, carrots, peppers, baby corn and tofu. Cook on medium heat for about twenty minutes until the carrots are cooked through but not mushy. Season and add the thai basil towards the end. Serve warm with rice.
