The Daily Minute

General Assholery

2009-09-14T21:28:00.003-05:00

I was an asshole today.

I didn't mean to be an asshole, it was a situation in which I did not care to explain myself and my actions just looked all assholey.

I've been in my head going around with the whole not having babies thing for a month or so now and I'm trying to work it out. Some days are good and some days are shit.

One of the girls I work with has a 4 year old daughter. Over the weekend she brought her daughter with her when she came to the office for a bit. Not a problem. She gave her little girl a few markers and some blank copy paper from the recycle box. Not a problem. The little girl drew her pictures and had a ball. Not a problem. Mommy gave her little girl some tape and the little girl taped her art to a central wall. Minor annoyance, not really a problem.

When the mother came in this morning she laughed out loud and said oh look, her art is still on the wall. She peeled the drawing off the wall and walked over and stuck it up in my desk area. I looked up at her and shook my head. She said ohhh isn't it great?! And I shook my head again and said uh uh.

Well, I may as well have killed a basket of kittens or something because she looked absolutely stricken. She quickly moved the drawing over to her work area an isle over.

If I've got to look at scribble art in blazing colors it's going to be from my kids - and I won't be having any of those.

I almost feel sorry.

The Official End of Summer

2009-09-06T16:12:00.002-05:00

With all the time that has passed since my last real update you'd think lots and lots of stuff would have taken place in my world. Truth is I've mostly just been working.

One of the real highlights was Johnny Cash coming to visit in March over her spring break. We didn't get to do nearly as many things as I had hoped we would - a project of mine lingered and ruined most of our plans. When she left the scent of her Chanel No. 5 lingered for days.

My super friend Nan came to visit in June and we had a wonderful time. We did loads of shopping and went to dinner at every single place I could think of. One of our adventures was a trip to Hyde Park, New York. I love the upper Hudson Valley. We went to Eleanor Roosevelt's summer cabin and had the loveliest docent guide. She told stories of Eleanor's kindness and generosity. (For those who may not know, Eleanor was the First Lady of our country, her husband was President Franklin D. Roosevelt - a good man.)

On our tour of Hyde Park we passed the Culinary Institute of America (we totally should have stopped and eaten there) and toured a home of one of the Vanderbilts. The grounds were so beautiful and lush, the interior was too fussy for my taste, but I enjoyed the peak into the past.

In mid July Sweet Pea came to see me for about a week and oh the fun we had. We drove all over Connecticut and went shopping and antiquing and to the movies and picture taking. We had so much fun. One morning I surprised her and took her to the train station. We rode into the city for the day and went to the Met and Top of the Rock (top of Rockefeller Center) and then explored all of Grand Central Station. We just had the greatest time together. I absolutely loved having her here.

When she left I flew home with her and spent time with my family. I miss them - being a part of their everyday lives, keeping up with what's going on, always having them within reach. It was comforting to not be alone all the time.

I've always wanted to be one of those people who made friends easily and always had someone to hang out with or talk to. I'm not. Never have been. It would make being here so much easier.

I hope y'all had really adventurous summers with lots of escapades, good ice cream, and more sunshine than you could stand.

Fried

2009-08-09T13:55:00.002-05:00

As everyone here knows - because I can't shut up about it - I am from Texas. I'm lucky, blessed, fortunate, kissed by the gods... however you want to say it. And the thing about Texas is that it lies at sort of a cross roads geographically speaking. East Texas gets all the rich, sentimental, gracious culture of the old south. South (and bits of West) Texas is steeped in hundreds of years of Mexican culture. Northern Texas is on the edge of the Midwest - but just far enough away to not get stuck with the accent. Central to West Texas gives us the danger, romance, and sex appeal of the wild west.

All of these different influences combine into a mindset and culture that is all our own. One of my favorite products of all this convergence is the food. We all know the saying, "Never trust a skinny chef", well, I'm not a thin girl so you can believe me when I tell you that the food in Texas can hold its own with any other cuisine. I miss it. I miss it the way a caught fish misses water.

I went home for not quite two weeks in July and got to spend lots of time with the family. We shopped, watched movies, played games, talked, and talked, and talked, and ate. We ate a lot. There was bar-b-que so succulent, savory, and smokey that the moment I inhaled my mouth watered and my tummy growled and I swear I was on the verge of a swoon.

And the Tex-Mex? Get. Out. Enchiladas with savory chili gravy, tamales with fresh masa, tacos just soggy enough from the picadillo so the bottom didn't crack, guacamole so verdant and fresh it smelled like summer. And the fajitas... my belly aches with fullness from just thinking about it.

Well, this weekend I was in need of a taste of home so I broke out the big heavy dutch oven, filled it with two inches of Crisco and fried me up some delicious, tender catfish. It was amazing! Now, you can fry anything in the South and it will be oh so delicious, but different things need different batters or coatings. If you were to fry up a twinkie or candy bar you'd need a thinned pancake type batter. If you were doing chicken fried steak it's a few simple steps of dusting with flour, dredging in egg wash, and then another dip in flour. Well, for fried catfish you dust the fish in a mix of flour and corn meal.

I pulled my catfish out of the fridge, rinsed it, and then patted it dry. You can choose any ole size you like - the full fillet, strips, nuggets, whatever makes you happy, but I cut it into nuggets. While it was spread out of my cutting board I gave both sides a good layer of salt, lemon pepper, old bay, onion powder, and garlic powder. Next I mixed together a cup of all purpose flour, 1/2 cup of corn meal, and a heaping tablespoon of old bay. I mixed that all up and and then tossed in the fish nuggets for a good dip. By this time the grease was plenty hot - I tested it by dropping a tiny bit of the flour into it. It bubbled right up, so I knew it was ready. The fish swam around in the hot grease for 4 to 6 minutes and was light golden brown when I dipped it out with my spider.

Kids, it was so good and tender and crispy, the cornmeal gave it just the right bit of crunch to the tooth, and it was succulent. It's really the easiest thing in the world, and you can try it with any kind of fish you like - and shrimp too!

Give it a shot. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pillage the fridge and find another tender bite of my delicious fish.

And Now the Book is a Movie

2009-08-03T20:17:00.002-05:00

So about two years ago I read this super amazing book and fell madly in love with it. It was full of emotion and passion and it made me happy and sad and all that mooshy sort of stuff. The book was The Time Traveler's Wife. This is a link to see the trailer on YouTube.

The sucky part is that I can't STAND Rachel McAdams. She's like spilled sugar on the kitchen floor when I'm walking around barefoot. Annoying. I'm hope, hope, hoping she knocks this one out of the park, because I'm gonna be mightily pissed off if she fucks up this fantastic story.

Well, well, well...

2009-08-01T08:07:00.002-05:00

So the motto here at The Daily Minute is "content to amuse", which, to my great delight, can go two ways. Because really, life is boring if everything is only one way. You, dear reader, can interpret it to mean either:

The words and thoughts entered here can be amusing - since they are never truly informative.

OR

That I, your so not at all diligent writer, am satisfied with just amusing you.

I like both. Feel free to use whichever pleases you most.

I have been absent from the pages of this blithe tome for months and months now. Why? Well, I don't really have a very good excuse. I've been working far too much - but so have you. I've only traveled twice - and most of you have likely done far more than that. I've been unmitigatingly depressed as all hell. I think winter here triggered something in me that had long been asleep. It has swum over me like a thick honey syrup and I have been unable to shake it from my soul. It is sort of like the dogshit you just can't seem to scrape off your shoe. It just doesn't all go away.

What I seem to have forgotten though is that this silly little blog has always been my catharsis. I vent my spleen, bitch, piss, moan, bellyache, whine, kvetch, cry, and bleed here. I hope to put a funny spin on my bitching so I don't sound like a complete and total whiny asshole bitch, but I know it doesn't always work. I got into the mental space of trying to be upbeat and find a spiffy spin to put on things to keep them from sounding the way I really felt, or to just talk about the fun/funny stuff. And really, how stupid is that since this is where I come to actually let the vitriol flow? I am too obtuse for words. Or, as some pedestrian sitcom zeitgeist once quipped - I am just too stupid to live. (Yes, I do know that I am a somewhat bright girl. This is why I sometimes find it shocking when I have done something really boneheaded.)

I don't know a lot these days. I'm working too much at a job that I love but am sick of. I miss my family the way I would miss air if my supply were suddenly gone. I've been seeing a fella since May, but I got a voicemail the other day saying he missed me but that we needed to talk. No idea what that means, but I am - surprisingly - not all strung out about it, just curious. How's that for modern detachment or healthy distance or what the fuck ever it's being called now?

I could say that I'm back with a vengeance, but seriously, I'll be doing good to come on once a week and spit out whatever shit is in my head.

I check in on y'all in my on unpredictable pattern and continue to laugh, smile, cry, and mourn with you. Maybe I'll be by soon.

xo

Cinco Preguntas

2009-01-31T09:45:00.002-06:00

So this really super awesome guy over at The Tome of Communism tagged me with a little 5 question meme, and here I am to answer. If y'all want to participate, just drop a request in comments and I'll get your questions in the ether pronto.

Grab your ankles and lets get this thing started.

1. Have you ever/would you want to have sex in the snow?

I have not, but I would so long as I didn't have to be on bottom. No one needs to see that kind of snow angel off my ass.

2. If you could share a house with one character from Pulp Fiction, who would it be and why?

No brainer - Mr. Marsellus Wallace - his house was amazing. And really, the options are limited. I make it a rule in life to not live with contract killers, dope peddlers, burned out boxers, or junkies.

3. It's 1957, and you have a choice to make: do you shoot John Lennon or Elvis Presley? You have to kill one of them, which will it be?

Considering that one of my "signs from above" to purchase my beautiful Cleopatra Jones was an Elvis song on the radio during the test drive, my choice is easy. I'd bust a cap in that pansy assed, Yoko loving, British warbler. Elvis is the only mother fucking option.

4. What is the sexiest part of a man? A woman?

The Mens: Ok, physically - I love a man with good legs. I like big thighs with good muscles and calves that match. Not those calves that look like snakes that swallowed a grapefruit, but the balanced ones. That shit right there is hot. I like good arms too. Some definition in the shoulders is nice. I love how strong men's arms can be. Mentally - confidence is smokin. Mind you I do not mean arrogance. Arrogance is loud and stupid, confidence is quiet and sexy. Confidence doesn't need to broadcast itself, it's an undercurrent.

The Womens: Physically - general shape. I can't bear stick figure females. I want to see some lusciousness and curves and softness. I cannot stand giraffe shaped coat hangers. I like Sarah Ramierez a lot. Mentally - I like a woman with attitude and spirit. A great sense of adventure and daring are important.

5. How drunk would you have to be/how much money would it cost for you to go streaking at the White House while on an official tour?

Sweet baby jesus... There is no amount of booze to make me do that. And the money? Upward of 10 million, plus the freedom afterward to enjoy it.

Snow January 2009

2009-01-25T18:41:00.009-06:00

Last weekend there was a pretty big snow storm and everything around here has been covered in soft, fluffy flakes ever since. These shots were taken today, a week after the storm. A week of temperatures with a high of 24 has preserved everything pretty well.

So today I drove around for a little while and stopped at this little park that's about half way between my house and the office and pulled out the Cybershot and click until the battery died. It was clear and beautiful today, so I thought the light would be decent and I really needed to get out of the house.

The snow crunched as I walked around and there were a few moments when I could hear the river rushing below. When my battery finally died I took a seat at the top of the sledding hill and watched these little kids go flying down it at break-neck speed. You could hear the shrieks and laughter as they cut loose.

Hope y'all had a good day.

Putney Chapel

Boothe Park Sledding Hill

Housatonic River

Boothe Park Sheep

Boothe Park Field

Boothe Park Clock Tower

I Forgot

2009-01-17T13:32:00.002-06:00

I've been angry since Thursday. Sounds, light, traffic, snow, wind, warm, sun, everything felt like I was being pricked with pins and needles. I have bitched about every single thing in the world to my dear friend Hitch. And Friday morning we were standing outside while she smoked and I looked at her and said that I knew how unbearable I had been, but I just couldn't figure out why I was so mad. I tried to think and she asked about different things trying to help me - which of course made me angry as well. Finally I looked at her and said I just didn't know, but that I had to figure it out.

We went back upstairs and started back in on our work. At 11:53 I looked at my calendar and it hit me, like the proverbial ton of bricks, what was wrong.

Friday was January 16. I think everyone knows that, it was rather obvious. The significance of this day, to me, you may not know. At 10:23 am on January 16, 1989, my father died. 20 years. 20 years without him. Every single year on January 16 at 10:23 in the morning something in me clicks. Every single year I can look at the clock at that moment without prompting or reminder. That is my moment to remember all of the parts of him that I choose to remember.

I forgot. I forgot that moment of remembering yesterday. That moment passed yesterday with no thought or love or memory of my father. That moment came and went with no recognition, I forgot. I did not remember. I did not honor my father or his memory in that moment, and I cannot bear it.

Something in me isn't right. I am out of balance here and I need to fix it.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-20T12:39:00.002-06:00

Can you believe Christmas is here? I have no idea where 2008 went, but it's gone. I finally had a chance to sit down and write out my Christmas cards about 1 am Thursday morning, and I realized I didn't ask if anyone here might want one. I didn't send any out to anyone at all last year, so I'm improving. If anyone would like a card just email me your snail mail addy at poshpeasant@yahoo.com and I'll pop one in the mail. The cards are really cute this year! And don't worry, I don't have the time or energy to sign any of you up for the midget bondange and pony gear catalog, your addy is safe.

The post below this one is about charitable giving and will be open for voting until December 31. I've enjoyed seeing the issues and charities that are important to y'all (especially Claire!), it's been something of an insight and I like that. So please keep voting. Come one more day, come every single day, come three times a day, whatever you like. The current vote tally is listed below.

Habitat for Humanity 1
Doctors without Borders 3
SPCA 4
World Wildlife Fund 10
Equality Now 3
Heifer International 8
Deaf Aid 1
Humane Society 1
Comic Book Legal Defence Fund 4
V-Day 10
UCLA UniCamp 1
Poets & Writers, Inc. 2
Kalaweit 1

Give It Up

2008-11-30T07:38:00.002-06:00

So it's like 7:30-ish in the morning and I can't go back to sleep so I pull out the latest edition of Real Simple magazine. I love this thing, it's usually full of useful information. Every month they ask readers a question on how they do something and then everyone writes in with what they do in situation x. Well, this month the question was "How do you give back during the holidays?"

There were lots of good answers, but one came from a blogger - Greenstyle Mom. Her answer to the question was that she does a charity-donation giveaway on her blog. Her readers tell the charities they like, and the one mentioned the most gets a cash donation from her. Excellent idea, right?

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...

We here at the Daily Minute find this to be such an incredible idea that we are keifing it and making a little change. Because there are so many worthwhile charities that could use a shot in the arm this year I will choose the top three mentioned here and send each of them $1 for every time they receive a vote from you (up to $150 each). Some of the charities I love the most are Doctors without Borders, Habitat for Humanity, SPCA... These are only suggestions, by all means contribute your own ideas. So get to voting, tell me your charity, tell me why you love it, vote as often as you like, let's make this a huge success for the people who need some help. And if you can give this year I challenge you to do the same on your blog.

Ho ho ho, y'all.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

2008-11-23T13:07:00.003-06:00

Lady West - Jamie Scott And The Town

I'm digging this sound right now.

The drama at work boiled over a few weeks ago, and seriously, it's total bullshit.

I've always thought the phrase "thrown under the bus" was overly dramatic because a bus is a mighty big thing to get thrown under. I understand it better now. It isn't because of the size of the situation, but rather the shock of it. I mean one minute you're strolling along enjoying the pretty blue sky and buzz of life around you and then BLAM! you've been flattened.

A little history - I was given a project to head with my group about two months ago. This was one of those "miracle" projects, it's a miracle anything will get done because we are giving you jack shit to work with. So with no proper maintenance plans or blue prints and only the statement of work provided by the vendor to go by we headed into the abyss. A week into the project I've managed to piece together enough information to pass out a package to each of the writers on my team so they would have something to begin their efforts with.

Through all of the research I kept my boss, my ATR (authorized technical reviewer), and two of my team members in the loop so people would be aware of all efforts being made and all sources being used.

From day 1 there were two members of the team who bitched nonstop about being tasked for this effort. A mother and her daughter. (Can you begin to see a little conflict here?) They went on and on about how many other project they had to do and that they just didn't have time to do this. Whatever, we're all busier than a one armed paper hanger, shut it and get busy. Jefe said do it, so we do it. Did I mention that the mother is married to Jefe's baby brother? Yeah, it's like that.

So as the weeks pass I check on everyone's progress. A few have questions and I (along with my ATR) hunt down whatever answers we can find. Every time I ask the dynamic duo how it's going I hear the same answer, it's fine. Ok.

Now fast forward a couple of weeks and we get an email from Jefe saying he is cutting our deadline by about 2.5 weeks. After my stroke the team got together to discuss our joint progress and see who needed a hand wrapping up their portion so we could push it out. Did I mention how big this project is? No? It hits every single dynamic system on the aircraft. Yeah.

As we are all giving our status reports and redistributing the remainder the daughter pipes up and lets everyone know she has done nothing on her part and she isn't going to have time to finish it, this project was now at the bottom of her list and tough shit. Then she walked away. The first thing that ran through my mind was how I was going to wring her neck fro throwing the whole entire team to the dogs on this. And just as I thought it another team member said it out loud - she didn't think it was right for the daughter to do this to us and that if she knew she was this far behind she should have gotten with us to get it covered.

The daughter has gone to call Uncle Jefe and tells him she's about 80% done, her graphics are in and she's polishing her text. Clearly that is not what she just said to all of us, so she is lying, to him or to the rest of us, but lying all the same.

After we all go back to whatever we were doing the mother gets up and tells the daughter what was said by the coworker. About 15 minutes later the daughter is at the coworker's desk yelling like a fishwife about how unprofessional that was and that if she has a problem with her she should come straight to her. Did I mention that we work in one huge room with all of the writers? Not just my group, but Blackhawk - domestic and international, commercial S92... It's about 100 writers and engineers spread over the whole floor of the building... who all see the entire scene. Humiliations galore.

I've never seen such behavior in the workplace, and it's shameful. So Jefe and ATR hear about the whole thing and bright and early Monday morning ATR pulls all of the writers into a meeting to discuss what happened. All writers except for the daughter and coworker. I have no intention of saying a word. For me, what happens in the pit, stays in the pit, we deal with it ourselves - sort of like prison justice. Sadly, not everyone holds the same point of view.

People start talking and tell the exact same story. Of the 8 of us in the room 5 have spoken and all have the same story. Then the mother opens her mouth. Right about that time is when the bus bumped right over me. She said that the whole thing was my fault because I didn't do my job and keep everyone in the loop and up to date. This was when my eyes bugged out, my jaw dropped, and I started white knuckling the arms of my chair. Clearly I don't have a poker face.

I looked over at my ATR and he was looking at me, then we both looked at the mother. She had her head down and wouldn't look either of us in the eye. Then my ATR said very quietly that he knew that wasn't true because he was on every single email I'd sent - and so was she, and that I'd gone above and beyond what I should have done by providing extra reference material, blue prints and specific sections of the vendor SOW.

The mother said we were all going to believe whatever we wanted so it didn't matter anyway.

And that's when I opened my mouth. I looked only at my ATR and spoke quietly because I was boiling on the inside. I said we were all frustrated because this was an extremely complicated project and that having the deadline chopped by two weeks made it even harder and we were all running on jagged nerves. I repeated what the daughter had said to everyone about this project no longer being a priority for her and that she had walked away after that and that 15 minutes later she was yelling.

The mother started huffing and puffing like she was going to blow the house down and said I was making that up. That was when I looked her straight in the face and said that's right, I've got nothing else to do all day but make up lies about you and the daughter. And then I looked back at my ATR and said the daughter wasn't on the floor when coworker said what she said, so if she tells you she heard anything at all it isn't true, she heard it second hand.

Apparently that's the one part of the story the mother and daughter left out when they talked with Jefe, neither he nor my ATR knew that part. Hmmmmmm.

It all ended with the daughter and coworker apologizing to everyone for the display.

Anticlimactic, no?

So the project rolls out to the fleet on Tuesday and we'll be done with it. Thank god.

I'm hanging on until Christmas when I get to go home for 11 days. Can't. Wait.

Was dating a fella for a few weeks, it didn't work out. We didn't really have enough in common, and we totally didn't see the world in similar or complimentary ways. Better luck next time.

Y'all hang in there, see ya soon.

Oh and... yay Obama!!!!!! Totally awesome.

VVVOOOOOOTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-11-04T17:51:00.003-06:00

I am excited today. I am damn near giddy. I love politics and all the mud slinging, back stabbing, battle ground stumping, machismo, and bravado that go along with it. It is a viscous dirty game and generally no one comes out a winner.

I love booing at the candidates I hate and cheering for the candidates I favor. I watch poll returns on election night the way investigators watched the Zapruder film. (He did not act alone, deal with it.)

This year I love that my fellow Americans are turning out in record numbers to have their say in the beast – no matter what that say might be. People who historically have been disenfranchised by the process are coming out and casting their vote, empowering themselves and hopefully generations to come – giving them pride in action and civil service.

I have voted in 18 years’ worth of elections and I have never been so happy to cast my vote. I am, without doubt, a Democrat. Not just a Democrat, but a yellow dog Democrat. That’s me, bleeding heart liberal. (Despite my favor of the death penalty.) Even as a little girl I wept when that beautiful humanitarian from Plains, Georgia, lost his second bid for the White House. The following 12 years of trickle down BS pained me. Clinton’s election felt like a bright ray of hope to me, and proved – in my opinion – to be one.

But even my love and commitment to my beautiful Bill Clinton are not as strong as the feeling of hope that I get from Barack Obama. It feels as though he is electrifying the nation. We are galvanized into action by his passion for the future of this nation. He is not the second coming of Christ, I know that, but as we each have our own “Big Picture” I believe his “Big Picture” includes how the policies we write affect the globe and not just America; that while America is his first priority, the rest of the world is his consideration. That as technology has made the world a much smaller place, we must be mindful of the influence we have over the world economy, world peace and the price of rice in Malaysia.

The world sees what we are doing, they are affected by the outcome of this race to a strong degree. This isn’t just our future, it’s everyone’s.

“I love Americans and America and have watched in horror as you gave up freedoms you fought for for 200 years for some manufactured ‘war on terror’”. –iReporter CNN – New Zealand

This iReporter for CNN felt pity for our bad choices in the past 8 years. We have become a nation that is pitied for its stupidity. That’s not how I want to be seen in the global market place.

I have no faith in a leader who believes that neither he nor his policies are accountable to anyone. That time is coming to an end. We know that with much power comes much responsibility – but we must, WE MUST, include great accountability.

Now is the time for my great country to regain her dignity, self respect, and the respect of the nations we have supported, and have been supported by for generations.
It will be with great hope that I hear Barack Hussein Obama say, “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

Ike - Raining Down Hate and Destruction Like A Motherfucker

2008-09-16T20:34:00.000-05:00

The rain and wind have come and gone. Flood waters from the massive storm surge have receeded. Chainsaws are making their usual appearance, their buzz can be heard throughout many neighborhoods. The loud chug of generators compete with the buzz, they blend into white noise after a while.

Electric power has not been resotred to most of the city, and in these final steamy weeks of summer, the heat is making people ill. Add to that the exponential explosion of the local mosquito population and you have a sure fire recipe for misery.

The beaches, shown above before and after Ike, where I spent many happy days - summer and winter - have been devastated. I used to date a fella a few years ago, his family had a great place on Bolivar. I have very happy memories of that place.

I sit here, 2,000 miles away, and see the devistation. Pictures of rubble where comfortable, modest summer homes used to stand. I have cousins in Galveston, Dickenson, League City, Kemah... No one has heard from them. Odds are high they evacuated, but news would be a great relief.

Johnny Cash and Martha Stewart have faired well, our homes are unscathed, our cars undamaged. Power would be welcome but that will come in the next few days. It's hard being so far away when my family is experiencing such a difficult time. I look at the pictures that are all over the internet these days and it hurts my heart to see my home in shambles and my people suffering. I want to catch a plane and go do whatever I can to help, but part of me knows my efforts would be limited and that the cost of airfare and car rental might be put to better use as a donation to the Houston Food Bank or Red Cross.

I've got deadlines crashing down on me at work, so odds are high - and getting higher - that I'll write a fat check. I also get to contribute in another way. The work I do keeps those Coast Guard rescue helicopters in the air. It also provides we the people with this particular aircraft doing a flyover of Galveston.

To those who come by here and read, please help. Below are links to a few places that are doing their best to provide relief during this terrible crisis.

The Houston Food Bank

The Houston Red Cross

The Houston SPCA

I know the SPCA may seem like an odd place to give, but pets have been left behind in the evacuation or lost. Animals might need medical care, food, and a dry place to stay until their families can come find them.

Thanks, y'all.

The Legend

2008-09-08T20:23:00.003-05:00

"If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no indifferent place." Rainer Maria Rilke

I love Rilke. He always says what is on my mind, only he has this eloquence that I can never hope to achieve. The living of my life is left to me. I am responsible for the joy, adventure, spontenaity, and bouts of wallowing in home-sick enduced sadness. I've been wallowing lately. I miss my family. More accurately, I miss being an active part of my family. When I feel this way I tend to hide out at home. Maybe "hide" is too dramatic a word, mostly I'm avoiding other people. Close, but not quite the same.

So two weekends ago when the Legend called and said he was going to be in the city and suggested a show and dinner I was all in. I love the Legend. I am not in love with him, but he is quite dear to me. Our relationship is somewhat unconventional. We have met up on and off for eight years now. He pointed that out to me over this last encounter. I hadn't really thought of it until then, but I suppose that makes him my longest relationship. Of sorts. He's married. He has a good wife and amazing kids. He likes to push the envelope, and well... I'm on the edge of the envelope I suppose. Life is complicated.

One of the things I like most about the Legend is how smart he is. He is one of the most intelligent people I know, and conversation with him is always fascinating. He captures my attention, holds it, commands it. He can talk about nearly any topic with a fair amount of authority, he is a conversationalist, he draws you into the discussion and it is nearly always lively. Have I ever mentioned how hot smart men are? It's just... a total panty wetter.

One of my quirks (issues) is that I have a hard time letting go of situations. I plan. I plan in detail. I like to think I'm capable of going with the flow, but seriously? Not so much. It isn't that I WANT to be in control, it's that I have little faith in other people's abilities. When you grow up with an incapable parent you tend to just assume everone else is as well. Thanks, Johnny Cash. The thing is, with the Legend I just let go. I have faith in him that he will always be in control of the situation and I just plain old don't have to worry. You can't possibly know how sexy that is to me. Maybe you can... but I don't think so. He leads. And truth be told it is an absolute relief.

We met and he led me around Broadway until we found just the right show, we sat and enjoyed a wonderful production of Legally Blonde. It was silly and lighthearted, exactly what we usually are together. The weight and pressures I usually feel evaporate when he is near. I love him for that. I relax when I am with him, I am safe.

After the show let out we had dinner at this AMAZING place near the theater. It's Toloache. If you are near there, go. Go now. Stop reading and go feed your soul. Avocado fries. I moaned when I put that first creamy crispy slice between my lips. Heaven. And try the carnitas de lechon. Slow roasted pig with habanero-sour orange salsa, cactus- avocado salad and oooooooooo this crispy little chicharone. So good. So, so good.

After dinner we walked a little and then he drove me to Grand Central so I could catch the train home. He drives like a bat out of hell. He's driven a sports car since college, his favorite being his Porsche. Only now that he's 50 (no, sugar, I can't believe you are 50 either) he thinks everyone is looking at him like it's his mid-life crisis car. He's even got a whole rant about it, it's hysterical. It was probably the best day I'd had in ages. And I am so grateful.

The Legend is one of the reasons I'm actually here in Connecticut. On my drive up from Texas we met for breakfast one morning. It was the last day of the drive and truth be told I was very afraid. Without him I'd have turned Cleopatra Jones around and headed back to Texas. I was upset and tired and afraid because there was no one to meet me here. He held me tight when I cried and told him what I was feeling and told me I'd already done the hard part. He told me I owed it to myself to see this through for a little while. He was right, he knows me fairly well. I like to think that at the end I'll have few regrets, going home would surely have been one.

Thank you, sugar...

Oh, I see a man at the back
As a matter of fact his eyes are red as the sun
And a girl in the corner let no one ignore her
'Cause she thinks she's the passionate one

Oh, yeah, it was like lightning, everybody was frightening
And the music was soothing, and they all started grooving

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Time's Gonna Save Our Souls...

2008-08-17T17:21:00.000-05:00

"Hey, Pers, didn't your mom put your picture up on the Walmart Wall of Heroes?"

"Yep, my grandma did when I went to Afghanistan. I'm on the Nevada, Missouri Walmart Wall of Heros. I've even got my dress blues on."

"If my mother ever distributed my likeness without written authorization I would disown her."

"Technically speaking, Bradford, didn't your biological parents disown you when they put you up for adoption?"

"Point, Ray. I was one of those unfortunates adopted by upper middle class professionals, nurtured in an environment of learning, art and a socio-religous culture steeped in more than 2,000 years of Talmudic tradition.

"Not everyone is lucky enough to have been raised in a whiskey tango [white trash] trailer park by a bow-legged female whose sole qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch the sperm of a passing truck driver."

"At least my mom took me to NASCAR!"

Show Clip

Generation Kill - If you aren't watching this, you should be. It has been an absorbing distraction. Thanks, HBO.

I've been back in Connecticut since the end of May. I was able to surprise Johnny Cash for Mother's Day and spend the afternoon with Ms. Babe. The trip itself was nice and relaxing to be with my family. We got to Ms. Babe's and sat in the group visit area while Johnny Cash went to get her. As Johnny Cash rolled her past me she smiled and said hello and then twisted around in her wheel chair and her face lit up and she reached for my hands. We sat for a couple of hours just like that, talking and holding hands and laughing. As far as last memories go, I'm grateful to have such a good one.

Apparently from that day in mid May to mid July she decided she'd had enough. She began to eat less and sleep more. She drew more deeply into herself. The day before she died Johnny Cash took Ms. Babe to the hospital, everyone thought she might have a kidney infection. My aunt and cousin met them at the ER where the doctor asked them what they wanted done. After he explained that she had about a day to live I got the phone call at work. I made my flight reservations to get home and caught my flight. Ms. Babe died before I could get home, but Johnny Cash held the phone up to her ear and I got to tell her how much I loved her.

Two weeks after my trip home Johnny Cash, Martha Stewart, Sweet Pea and Boogie Man came up for vacation. I flew everyone up and had a limo meet them at the airport. My family, being who they are, took pictures of everything - including a group shot with the driver. We had a fantastic time. I think the days away gave everyone the break they needed and enough down time to just relax. We drove up to Cape Cod and went whale watching. We got to see about 30 different whales, it was incredible. The kids never stopped talking about it the whole trip. My cousins in the Bronx drove over for a day and I cooked a big lunch. We went to the beach and enjoyed lunch. The rest of the trip was shopping and driving around seeing Connecticut and going to dinner. My little house was full of laughter, yelling, and the general noise of people in the house. It feels empty now without them here.

Work has been red lining since I hit the ground and shows no signs of letting up for at least another month or so. June went by in a blur of mandatory overtime, cat naps, and take out. July is a haze with a few standout moments - most I'd rather forget. I'm tired. I get up, go to work, come home, clean house a little and go to sleep. I'm not really sure how the house gets so dirty with me not even here, but it does. The dust collects on all horizontal surfaces, there is a film on all the windows and I can't keep the sand out of the foyer to save my life.

Office politics is turning into a living, breathing beast and I want nothing to do with it. There is enough division, ass kissing and back stabbing going on to make an episode of Dynasty. I'm just waiting for the bitch fight in the water feature in front of the building. I've looked at both sides long and hard and my only conclusion is that they are all idiots. Everyone is so afraid that someone might get more than them. So what. If you want more there's an easy way to get it. Earn it. As foreign a concept as that might be it just might work.

I've been somewhat reluctant to write about my work here. Not because I don't want to talk about it, but because of security issues. I've given it a lot of thought, and well...

As you know I am a technical writer. I work for a helicopter manufacturer and write the maintenance manuals that support them. My particular group focuses on the US Navy (as well as a few foreign naval forces). Now you may ask yourself what this oil country girl might know about helicopters and I would respond to that with - not a hell of a lot. However, I know corrosion. And corrosion on a helicopter dedicated to a sea-water environment is a huge big deal. I put a lot of pressure on myself to learn what I needed to know to be good at my job. I've put in the hours. I've asked the questions. I networked. I pushed, pulled, and broke through my own limits.

And it has paid off.

Back in April work sent me to Florida for a month - to work on Marine One. Can't say more than that, but... HOLY SHIT BATMAN!!!!!!!!

While there I got to make friendly with other groups and hear how their programs were going. One of which is the new aircraft for the Marines. Let me just say it is one sexy beast - it is the baddest mother fucker around. Ever since then I have wanted to be a part of that project. So when I came back from Florida I told my boss how exciting that project was and that if they were looking for writers I wanted in. My group doesn't work that aircraft so a few strings would have to be pulled, but I really want to work it.

I found out a few days ago that my boss submitted my name to the team leader with a high recommendation. I think I might be in. If nothing else though, I know my boss believes in the quality of my work.

There's other stuff going on, but this has been my life for the last couple of months. I know I'm an asshole for not writing, and I can't promise all sorts of new posts. I have been reading y'all and keeping up with you sporadically - just not commenting much.

Later, kids.

They Called Her Babe

2008-08-03T15:18:00.003-05:00

Her name was Camille. She was born in 1912. She was the third child - second daughter - of Sicilian immigrants. Her mother died when she was 14. She dropped out of school to help her father raise her siblings. She spent a little time as a window dresser for Foley Brothers Department Store - her dream had been to design interiors.

She met her future husband through her brother-in-law - he was a bootlegger during prohibition. She was his second wife. (Clearly she liked them dangerous.) She buried her first daughter at the age of 25, she was a toddler of three who died in a terrible accident in her aunt's home. She went on to raise five other children through good times and bad.

She and her husband had a grocery store with fresh vegetables - some from their own garden - fresh beef, pork and chicken, and everything else under the sun. Together they made sure there were no hungry bellies near them. She was a seamstress for a while when her husband broke his back and could not work. She put two of her sons through university through her own labor.

Each of her children went on to marry and have families of their own. From her five children came 13 grandchildren, 20 great grandchildren, and 3 great-great grandchildren. Two of her great granddaughters bear her name as their own.

She was the glue that held a strained family together. She was the one person in the whole world who loved me every single day of my life. She was my hero, my strength, my courage, and the utter delight of my life.

She passed away last month and the world is unbearably dark without her.

Mrs. Babe, 1912 to 2008. May god bless her soul.

A Little Sunshine

2008-05-06T20:50:00.002-05:00

"I was at a dinner party this weekend with a bunch of retired NY cops - those guys have phenomenal pensions!"

"In highschool I was on the shooting team, I used to carry a .22 to school every day and keep it in my locker - and nothing was wrong with that."

Yeah, I voted for Bush the first time, but now I'm sorry, he's just fucking us all up the ass."

"You know how I got chlamydia in '68?"

"Oh man, she's got a body on her but a face you gotta push into a pillow. You should see the tramp stamp she's got on her."

The last three were said by a little beer barrel of a man with sun leathered skin and tobacco yellow teeth.

This is what I hear all day at work now. Just by general political conversation I can tell I'm back in a red state. Despite the political climate, I find that it feels more like home. The people are SO much friendlier, there is more wide-open space. I went to the market my first week here and had five entire conversations with total strangers.

The beaches are absolutely stunning. I had planned to go last Sunday, but I just didn't have it in me to venture out again. I had spent all day Saturday driving around shopping. And Oh. My. God. The shopping? Ahhhhhhhhhhh. The shopping here is definitely like home. The stores are big, plaza layouts are fantastic - it's just so inviting. You come and actually want to spend your money.

I've noticed that I get more done during the course of my day here. Of course there's no one to talk with, so that is likely a huge contributing factor. There isn't a lot to do right now on the project they sent me here to work on, and likely won't be for a few months. They (those who make these brilliant decisions) are talking about calling me back and sending me back in a few months for a week or so at a time. Who knows.

I've been going out to dinner now and then trying to get a feel for what the locals love. The sushi? Awful. I love me some sushi, and the two places I've been here are terrible. I find one cuban place that makes these slow cooked short ribs - phenomenal. But their black beans? Bland. Such a disappointment. There are still quite a few places I want to try, so we'll see how it goes.

All that being said, I miss my team, my beach and my little house. And oh man do I miss Cleopatra Jones. She needs a brake job and an oil change, I'll have to get that taken care of quickly.

I'm going home for the weekend and I'm so excited. I haven't seen my family since Christmas and it's just so great. I'm surprising Johnny Cash for Mother's Day.

I hope y'all are doing well and that your efforts are fruitfull.

Apparently...

2008-04-20T09:56:00.002-05:00

I'm a potty mouth.

Created by OnePlusYou

Who knew?

I leave tomorrow. I've got most of my packing done, now I'm just trying to finish everything up - laundry, house keeping...

I'm nervous. And excited. And overwhelmed. And eager. And hopeful. And intimidated. And maybe, just maybe, up for the challenge. I'll be taking my camera and hopefully each weekend will hold some new landscape or adventure. I've been thinking about getting SCUBA certified while I'm there, apparently there's lots of great diving there. I'd like to go deep see fishing as well.

Aside from all the distractions, there is so much I'll be able to learn and it's exciting. This is a chance I didn't think I would get early on and I plan on imersing myself in this and syphoning off all the knowledge I possibly can. I don't want to disappoint my boss. I want him to be happy with and proud of the work I accomplish.

No pressure. No. Pressure.

TMI Tuesday No. 131: The Tax Edition

2008-04-16T18:49:00.002-05:00

A day late, but I won't tell if you won't.

1. Did you have to pay or did you get money back? A little return, I'd rather keep out just enough to know I won't have to pay.

2. What was your biggest financial mistake? Suspending my contribution to my retirement fund for the last six months of 2007.

3. Are you a screamer? Depends how pissed off I get.

4.a. What part of your body, other than your genitals, do you love to have touched? I love to feel someone's touch on my cheek. Very intimate.
4.b. What part of a partner's body, other than their genitals, do you love to touch? I'm a big fan of rubbing the belly.

5. What [edit: 12:30] commercial catch phrase best describes your life? We will sell no wine before its time.

Bonus (as in optional): Who is moving to Palm Beach for a three month assignment from work? ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I leave Monday. Shit.

So I'm Cooking. A Lot.

2008-04-13T10:34:00.004-05:00

Two weeks ago I did a paella. It was perfectly rich, savory and bright. I still can't find chorizo here so I've started using andoulle and it's coming up with just enough spice to feel on your tongue, but it doesn't hang in the back of your throat and make you wheeze. The olives and capers are likely two of my favorite components, they bring such a bright flavor to the dish. I'm thinking next time I'm going to add lemon zest or wedges to the final simmer to cut a little of the richness. The crust on bottom was the most perfect thing ever, it was crisp and brown and so effing tastey. Sadly I didn't get a picture of the crust, I stirred it all up and broke it to pieces...

Last weekend I cooked like crazy. I love Thai food and haven't found a realy great place here just yet so I broke out this recipe for pad thai. It was good, but it needed more lime. There was just enough ginger to make your tongue tingle though and the noodles were perfect, I used thin udon. Sorry, no pics on that one.

Last weekend I also made bread. Yeah. And it was amazing. And easy. And kneading bread is as mentally effective as retail therapy. The feel of the dough in your hands is so sensual. The rolling motion you work into with your arms and shoulders - it's just so physical. I found the recipe at another blog I read - The Homesick Texan - appropriate, no? It turned out perfectly, you just can't screw up this recipe. The honey makes the bread sweet, but not so much so that it's unappealing. It is perfect for breakfast. I'm thinking of adapting it and making oatmeal cookie bread - roll it flat, sprinkle a layer of brown sugar, cinnamon and raisins, roll it up and plop it in a loaf pan. We'll see.

I also made pancakes. Who doesn't love a fluffy tender stack of warm syrup kissed deliciousness? The recipe is standard, nothing special, but I mixed up enough dry ingredients for 4 batches - the remaining three are cozy up in the freezer. So when I crave them all I have to do is scoop out a cup of mix, add an egg, a cup of milk and a tablespoon of melted butter. And if you'd rather buy the frozen microwavable pancakes instead - you should not be allowed to eat pancakes because you do not understand them.

The ingredients for the mix are:

4 cups flour
3 tablespoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons +
2 teaspoons sugar

You can just as easily mix up one batch at a time - divide each ingredient amount by 4. I'm just lazy and want to do it the easy way.

Eat it Up

2008-04-01T18:03:00.003-05:00

I was watching television this evening and I think I found the absolute best job on the whole entire planet and I'm deadly envious of the man who holds it. I've been lucky enough to eat his delicious food and read his insightful and edgy books, but his current job really is the bizbomb.

I imagine most of you have heard of him, some worship, some hate - to each their own. His name is Anthony Bourdain and he currently has a television show called No Reservations. If you are a foodie then you'll know about his delicious restaurants Les Halles (3 of 4 locations now I think.) It's delicious, hearty food that's quite elegant in it's simplicity, and for a joint run by a celebrity chef the prices are dead cheap.

Along with his really great food he's written a few books. I've read them and his writing is the perfect reflection of his personality - edgy, a cynical (nearly sardonic) sense of humor, and just enough wonderment to keep him from being a total dick.

His current gig on No Reservations lets him travel the globe and go native. He has a guide that takes him through the awesome sights of a city (not necessarily the tourist places), teaches him the culture and he eats. He samples the strange stuff, he eats the local staples, he goes from the high class joints to the kind of dives that will leave you with a case of two day shits.

I'm so jealous I could die. He gets PAID to do this! How do I get that gig? No, really. How do I get that gig?

Oh, and Deadliest Catch will be back on soon. w00t! Now if I can just find Oil, Sweat and Rigs' schedule.

Loose Ends

2008-03-19T22:38:00.001-05:00

I hadn't realized how long it has been since my last post until the lovely Ms. Smack brought it to my attention. It's not like things are just super busy, I mean they are, but that's normal. There's lots of work going on, family matters that never seem to end and cookings galore. I hope y'all have had really good weeks.

I've been cooking like crazy lately. I roasted the most beautiful lamb shoulder over the weekend and it was easier than spelling my name. (Which I've been known to misspell upon occasion.) I finally found a butcher and he helped me select the right cut of shoulder that would be perfect for my recipe. I flirted with him shamelessly and he threw in a couple of extra pieces for my lamb stew that I'll be doing later. (w00t). When it was time to cook I pulled out my handy dandy All Clad roaster, threw down enough fresh rosemary sprigs to simulate a tiny forest floor and a handful of fresh garlic cloves - unpeeled. I scored the top layer of fat on the roast, gave it a rub down with olive oil and a nice dust of salt and pepper and plopped it on top of the rosemary and garlic. Over the top of that I layed a few more sprigs of rosemary down and more garlic. Next I covered the pan tightly with foil and stuck it in a 500○F oven. Once I closed the door I dropped the temp to 325○F and let it go for 3 hours. After that I took the foil off, spooned the drippings over top and stuck it back in the oven uncovered for another hour. Once my time was up the roast had this beautiful golden brown color and all the juices in the pan had reduced and carmalized. I put the roast on a cookie sheet, tented it with foil and layed a dish towel over it.

To make the sauce I put the pan over two burners set on medium and mixed 1 tablespoon of flour into the drippings. Then I added a handful of chopped mint leaves and rinsed capers along with 2 cups of chicken stock and let it come to a bubble. After the sauce reduced by 1/4 I shut off the flame and then shredded the roast with two forks. It was literally falling apart so it took almost no effort to shred the roast. Voila' roasted lamb shoulder. Dee-Lish! I'm thinking my next roast will be a pork shoulder (braising a shoulder is so easy) with parsley, garlic and lemon. We'll see.

Work is good, I'm still learning plenty and there's always lots to do. There's LOADS of drama going on. Oh. So. Juicy. And naturally I can't share. Pisser, huh? Let's just say there's some serious white trash on my team, redneck is not an exclusively Southern term.

The family. My wonderful Mrs. Babe is begging to receed into herself. She has always been a fighter, so hearing about her decline is quite disheartening. Her greatest strength in life has been her ability to adapt to whatever life throws at her, and now life isn't throwing anymore. She isn't talking much or eating much and for the first time in her life she mostly just wants to be left alone. She is refusing to answer the phone or be social.

Johnny Cash is... Johnny Cash... bless her heart. She is not handling Mrs. Babe's decline well. But what do you do when you lose your tower of strength? She and her sister are already starting their greiving process and I can sort of understand that. The Mrs. Babe we have always known and adored is slipping away. I wish she would focus on her good fortune at having a vital and amazing mother around for so long, but the sadness is understandable.

My Martha Stewart is standing still. She seems incapable of moving forward. I don't understand wanting someone who can't be bothered to give a shit that their behavior tore their family apart. The Cheater has turned into a blamer. Everything is Martha Stewart's fault. If she had been more attentive, if she had been more respectful, if she had catered to him more, if, if, if, if the sky were fucking purple... We had a long conversation the other night about what isn't going on. She just doesn't seem like she can do what needs to be done. She filed for divorce back in September, but she just can't seem to follow through with it. The Cheater has stopped trying, he has stopped putting in any effort other than the occasional trip to therapy. And the last trip ended with him storming out of the doctor's office because no one believes a word out of his mouth. I guess that's one of the consequences of being a lying cheating bastard, huh?

Boogie Man has been lighting it up on the ball field already. He's rotating between third base and pitcher and doing quite the job at both posts. He's so advanced in his pitching abilities that the coach has asked Martha Stewart to enroll him in a special summer camp this year to further improve his abilities. He called me at work the other day to let me know that of his 5 base hits in his game he stole home 4 times. Effing sweet, huh?

Sweet Pea has been the total queen in her drama class. I do believe she is a natural as she comes from a long line of drama queens. Her social life has however caused her to set her priorities in an order that is displeasing to her beloved mother. Martha Stewart was not amused. Two Cs showed up on her progress reports and that was exactly when the little madame got shut down. Her little pre-teen heart is broken and suffering not so silently. This too shall pass, no? Oh, and she's got a boyfriend. They are going out. They don't go anywhere, but they are going out.

That's most everything...

I had a dream the other night that felt so good. I've had a sort of crush on someone for quite some time and in my dream he was living in the house next door to Mrs. Babe's old home. It was warm and welcoming and I was there with him, we were together. It was bed time and we crawled under the covers and made spoons. I could feel his arms around me and his chest against my back. It was the safest I had felt in such a long time. I remember the feel of his hand on my tummy pulling me back against him.

And last but not least in this marathon post:

Humina humina humina - Javier Bardem...

Chicken?

2008-02-22T18:15:00.003-06:00

I think my new goal in life is to find a husband who thinks I'm completely brilliant and will be utterly happy with me just cooking for him all the time. Or maybe when I'm sufficiently practiced I could just open my own little bistro. I've actually been talking about it with Alice Marie, one of my friends here.

I love being in my kitchen. I cook frequently and really enjoy it. It makes this empty little house feel more like a home when my kitchen smells like Mrs. Babe's. I have no idea how to cook for just one person, so I usually end up making dinner for one of the girls. Alice Marie has 2 kids at home and with homework and all the obligatory running around afterward she doesn't usually cook during the week, so I'll make dinner for her group every now and then and just bring it to the office for her to take home. A few weeks ago I was craving my baked ziti so I made the normal batch and filled a small corningware dish for me and then a larger one for another one of the girls, and her husband. I put mine in the oven and drove over to Sylvia's house and dropped her's off. She and her hubby take good care of me and have been good friends to me so I'm happy to be able to do something yummy for them.

I worked from home today because of the snow storm. After shoveling Cleopatra Jones out of her snow-plow drift I needed something utterly delicious. So after I wrapped up a bit more work I made this HUGE batch of arroz con pollo. I'm most familiar with the Mexican style, but I got a variation on the recipe from one of my Dominican friends here. Let me just say - TOTAL TASTEBUD ORGASM. OH. MY. GOD. It was excellent. The flavors were rich and complex, the texture almost creamy. I followed a method for risotto instead of cooking it like regular rice. Even though the rice was your standard long grain cooking it risotto style gave it that creamy texture you get from arborio, it just lacked the nutty flavor.

First I minched the hell out of half a yellow onion and sauted it in a little olive oil until it was all softened. Then I added a couple of mashed up garlic cloves, salt and pepper and let that begin to carmelize a little. After that add cut up chicken breasts; I used three and cubed it to about the size of a regular dice. I added a few good shakes of Adobo and Sauza and let the chicken brown. Once I was happy with that I made a hot spot in my pan and added tomato paste. If you leave it in the little hot spot a minute or two it carmelizes, the natural sugar in the tomato comes out and it adds a bit more depth to the flavor. So I blended that all in well and let i coat the chicken and cook a bit more. Next I added a cup and a half of rice and let it pan fry a bit with everything until it became translucent. After that I added a cup of water and two chicken bouillon cubes, gave it a big stir and let it bubble. Once that cup was absorbed I added another half cup. I did this several times until sufficient water had been absorbed and the rice had given off all this rich creamy goodness. With the last half cup of water I added a can of drained gandules (pigeon peas) and let it bubble.

Super easy right? All I had to do was chop an onion and some chicken and then throw in delicious bits. All in all it only took about 35 minutes from start to finish. Of course now I've got this gigantic pot of food.

Behold, the arroz con pollo!

RrRrRrRrRrRr

2008-02-09T20:11:00.000-06:00

When I grow up...

I want to be called Feroc. As in Ferocious.

I might need to get me some of that.

All Apologies

2008-02-03T19:24:00.000-06:00

Clyde set off a thread of thought in me a few weeks ago when he said, "She asks for so little in return." It's true. I'm not good at accepting anything from people - gifts, compliments, advice, praise, love... To ask for anything makes me feel like I can't do/provide for myself, which in turn makes me feel weak. I think we have sufficiently established my loathing of my own weaknesses.

Growing up we were always told to never asky for anything from people, it was rude. If we went some place to visit people (non family) the only thing you could ask for was directions to the bathroom. The theory behind that being that if someone wishes you to have something, they will offer it. Part of that stems from Johnny Cash's frequent trips to people who had very little. She did, and still does, a great deal of charity work. We might be visiting people that didn't have dinner on the table the night before, and to ask for something would be embarassing for them as they didn't have anything to give.

While Daddy was alive and working hard we had plenty. Plenty of everything. Once Daddy got sick things changed. Drastically. I come from mostly honest hard working people. Pay your bills, don't accumulate debt, give every chance you get. We were never rich, but before Daddy got sick we were very comfortable. We had land up at the family farm, a nice house, nice cars, the typical stuff. But after several years of illness the money was gone. Land was sold and savings cleaned out to pay doctor bills. The theory was that eventually Daddy would get better and go back to work and everything would return to normal. Well, that didn't happen. His illness continued to progress and eventually he died.

While Daddy was in hospice care he had a friend that came to visit every single night. Mr. Doug came every night and sat and talked with all of us and played cards with us. I'm still thankful for the kindess he showed to us. Mind you he did this after working 8 or 10 hours and driving an hour and a half to the hospital. Every single day. Well, one night while he was telling us all stories of the times he and Daddy had worked together he told us something Daddy had once told him about us. Daddy once said that he had the best girls ever. His girls never asked for anything. That really doesn't sound like much, but we knew the money was gone, and asking would only make our parents feel bad. They already felt bad, we didn't need to add to it. We simply learned how to make do with what we had. Johnny Cash told us that there was no money for extra things and that was that. We just didn't ask for stuff.

It was the way of my life. Not just in money, but in everything. Self sufficiency became very important. It was a strong matter of pride to not need anything from anyone - including Johnny Cash. It's messed up. I've been in this mental space for 25 years or so, since childhood.

Moving here was difficult, because I have yet to ask for help. I can't. I drove into town one night and went straight to a hotel. I never asked to stay with a friend. I never asked anyone for help when apartment hunting. I never asked for help moving into the house. I did it all on my own. It was hard. But that's how it always is. I can't ask, I can't make my personal needs known. And that's a shame, because it denies other people the ability to be/pleasure of being generous to me.

All of this goes to something else that Clyde has said to me recently. When I post very personal or introspective essays I can't bring myself to comment on the kind and thoughtful things you all say to me. I read them and think about what you all say and try to take in the best of the essence of your comments, but I can never seem to find the words of thanks or appreciation or explanation for what you give to me when you reply. For that I apologize.

I'm a work in progress, what else can I say?