Doesn't it seem like yesterday that everyone was bracing for the Y2K "disaster" that never came?
And here we are -- another New Year in its infancy. I'm not one for resolutions, but you're reading one of them. I resolve to get out my feelings more this year. They're disjointed, with no connection whatsoever, but here they are.
By this time next year I'll be the mother of an official driver-license-holding teenager, on her way to spreading her wings for independence. I've devoted so much of my being to this child that I'm not sure I'm ready for the empty nest.
She's beautiful, brilliant and sensitive -- exactly what this world needs for its future. Can I let her go? I don't know. She needs to be let go, and I hope and pray I'm not so selfish I can't let that happen. I love her fiercely. She's my life's joy.
I'm recovering from some funky stomach malady, so the first nibble of the day wasn't black-eyed peas and greens. I hope the New Year's gods can forgive this indiscretion and bless me with luck. It would be nice to win the lottery, but you have to play to win. If I can't swoop up on Powerball winnings, I hope I can at least keep my head above water this year.
My little dog isn't getting any younger. He's had eye and back problems this year. I wish him an easy, healthy year as we grow older together.
It's my fervent prayer that the economy pull out of this dismal slump. Uppermost in my mind, of course, is the fate of newspapers. So many good people have devoted their lives to the truth with very few monetary rewards. Please, for their sake -- for my sake, even -- don't let newspapers die. We're not perfect, but we're out there trying our damnedest to give the public an unbiased look at the events coloring their world. The same cannot be said of so many bloggers and citizen journalists, many of whom color themselves as objective but reveal their bent. Kind of like Faux News with a keyboard.
(And yes, I do realize I'm using a blog as my podium. I, however, make no claim to be a journalist here. This is where I blow off steam -- it's subjective, and I have no plans to change that.)
I have high hopes for our new POTUS. Barack Obama is no messiah, but he gives me optimism. New ideas are needed. The status quo is not working. I now count down the days to the end of the error -- a man neither elected by the people nor for the people.
Reading about the possibility of Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner having a New Year's baby makes me smile. It's irrelevant to my daily life, but I think they're absolutely darling. So many times I've latched my hopes onto a Hollywood couple -- Brad and Jennifer, Reese and Ryan -- only to see it end in divorce. (I still haven't forgiven Brad for cheating with Angelina Whorlie.) I have faith in the Afflecks. They seem ... almost normal.
Why was Friends the last great sitcom? I love The Office, but there is still a void left by the six people who gathered in my living room every Thursday to make me laugh .. and cry. Though I've always loved Friends, I still mourn for the pre-Monica Chandler and the Joey who was dumb and lovable, not brain dead.
Of course, Jim Halpert does help ease the pain somewhat ... (Is he gorgeous or what?!?)
And speaking of guys who make you drool, I'd gladly be Rob Pattinson's cougar. Long or short hair, bald ... I don't care. Just in case anyone out there knows him and wants to pass the word ...
Happy New Year, everyone! Both of you.
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Thursday, July 5, 2007
I'm in love!
With my new grill.
I spent a good part of my holiday putting it together. And it works! Without explosions! Yay me!
So, naturally, we used it to prepare dinner on last night. It was just hot dogs (The Girl's choice), but they were spectacular!
Afterward, we lounged outside with King o' the Pekes. He developed an affinity for ice; it was hilarious giving it to him, then watching him treat it like -- well, a doggie treat.
We bought a few fireworks. (Unfortunately, they were out of my favorites -- sparklers.) We had a grand display in our little corner of the world -- the neighbors did their fireworks at the same time. One of them spared no expense, so we got to see some of the huge splashes of light from our front lawn.
It was one of the best Fourths I remember in a long time. Good food, good company, and the weather couldn't have been more cooperative. I hope your holiday was just as great.
On a side note: The Girl has a boyfriend. Hold me.
I spent a good part of my holiday putting it together. And it works! Without explosions! Yay me!
So, naturally, we used it to prepare dinner on last night. It was just hot dogs (The Girl's choice), but they were spectacular!
Afterward, we lounged outside with King o' the Pekes. He developed an affinity for ice; it was hilarious giving it to him, then watching him treat it like -- well, a doggie treat.
We bought a few fireworks. (Unfortunately, they were out of my favorites -- sparklers.) We had a grand display in our little corner of the world -- the neighbors did their fireworks at the same time. One of them spared no expense, so we got to see some of the huge splashes of light from our front lawn.
It was one of the best Fourths I remember in a long time. Good food, good company, and the weather couldn't have been more cooperative. I hope your holiday was just as great.
On a side note: The Girl has a boyfriend. Hold me.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Happy birthday! Or ... WWJD?
Happy birthday, America! This pup and his Stars and Stripes are my wallpaper today.
Can you imagine the guts it took for those men to declare our freedom 231 years ago? Do you think any of our leaders could display the same kind of raw courage today? I doubt it, too.
I wonder if today's U.S.A. is what Thomas Jefferson, et al., envisioned on that summer's day more than two centuries ago. Here's some food for thought on What Would Jefferson Do? (or, for this day alone, WWJD?)
- What would Jefferson do if someone proposed making gay marriage illegal?
- What would Jefferson do after having the land he loves attacked by a madman and his followers? Would he retaliate against another country which played no role in the terrorism enacted upon his beloved soil?
- What would Jefferson do if a key federal adviser was found guilty of a crime and sentenced to prison? Would he OK a pardon? Call this man "a great American," as one Tennessean planning to announce his intentions to run for POTUS has?
- What would Jefferson do if the majority of Americans elected a man POTUS, but the electoral votes weren't there to complete the transaction?
- What would Jefferson do if, in the same election, there were questions about votes cast? Or in a subsequent election?
- What would Jefferson do in the event of arguments over religion? Would he think there is a superior religion? Or would he be tolerant of all faiths and beliefs?
- What would Jefferson do if officials talked of closing off America's borders? Would he control immigration?
- What would Jefferson do about health care? Would he recognize the insurance lobbyists as the ones who have a choke hold on the progress that could be made?
Government for the people, by the people and of the people seems to be an ideal that has been lost over the centuries. It is up to us to see that the visions of Jefferson and those who bravely put their necks on the line for our freedom to carry out their ideals.
Are we up to the task? After all they risked, how can we not be?
Sunday, April 8, 2007
White rabbits ... and KISS
The Girl has proclaimed her passion for white chocolate.
Whatever. More of the good stuff for me.
She said weeks ago that she wanted a white chocolate bunny for Easter. Do you know how hard it is to find a white chocolate bunny? Most of them either are "milk flavored" (pass the puke pan, please) or stuffed with peanut butter. The latter sounds like a winner to me, but no go for The Girl, who is a white chocolate purist.
Finally -- FINALLY! -- on Friday, I found it. At Wal-Mart, The Evil Empire (and the closest of any empires to my home). There were two left -- one was broken, the other teetering on its base. I opted for the latter, and paid for the cheap thing.
Yeah, I said cheap. I love a bargain -- except when it comes to chocolate. I'm a chocolate snob. If it's inexpensive, it's most likely lousy chocolate. Experience plays on my side in this.
As Easter morning dawned cold as Christmas and clear, The Girl discovered her Easter basket on the kitchen table. She loved the Little Miss Sunshine DVD, was ecstatic over the black bunny I managed to snag -- and was over the moon giddy about her white chocolate bunny.
Whatever. Pass the Cadbury's, please. And they'd better be milk chocolate.
* * *
When it came to getting rid of Easter eggs -- the real, hard boiled ones, that is -- God said, "Let there be deviled eggs!" (God would never say "stuffed eggs," regardless of what the religious right would have you believe.)
And it came to pass, and they were good.
Then Man (and Woman) started "improving" them.
Like all things Divine, humans have messed up deviled eggs. The simplest culinary concoction there is, and humans have to "perfect" them.
Deviled eggs, in their purest form, are perfect. Like my mother and grandmother, I don't measure anything when it comes to making them, but here's the rough idea:
Desired quantity of hard-boiled eggs
Mustard, to taste
Mayo, to taste
salt, to taste
Paprika
Slice eggs vertically, then scoop out yolks. Smash yolks, adding desired amounts of mustard, mayo and salt. (I go light-handed on the mustard.) Put mashed-up concoction into a Ziploc bag, and snip off one of the corners of the bag. (Cook's note: It's less messy if you snip off a corner where the concoction doesn't lay.) Squirt concoction through snipped corner into hollow egg whites, filling to top. After filled, sprinkle eggs with paprika. Refrigerate, and consume at will.
Now, how hard is that?
I love shrimp, pickle relish, onions, vinegar and other flavorings, but they have no business in deviled eggs. Save the relish and onions for a hot dog, use the vinegar for one of the many reasons God intended, and grill the shrimp on the Barby. Just KISS.
***
Have a blessed Easter, everyone!
Whatever. More of the good stuff for me.
She said weeks ago that she wanted a white chocolate bunny for Easter. Do you know how hard it is to find a white chocolate bunny? Most of them either are "milk flavored" (pass the puke pan, please) or stuffed with peanut butter. The latter sounds like a winner to me, but no go for The Girl, who is a white chocolate purist.
Finally -- FINALLY! -- on Friday, I found it. At Wal-Mart, The Evil Empire (and the closest of any empires to my home). There were two left -- one was broken, the other teetering on its base. I opted for the latter, and paid for the cheap thing.
Yeah, I said cheap. I love a bargain -- except when it comes to chocolate. I'm a chocolate snob. If it's inexpensive, it's most likely lousy chocolate. Experience plays on my side in this.
As Easter morning dawned cold as Christmas and clear, The Girl discovered her Easter basket on the kitchen table. She loved the Little Miss Sunshine DVD, was ecstatic over the black bunny I managed to snag -- and was over the moon giddy about her white chocolate bunny.
Whatever. Pass the Cadbury's, please. And they'd better be milk chocolate.
* * *
When it came to getting rid of Easter eggs -- the real, hard boiled ones, that is -- God said, "Let there be deviled eggs!" (God would never say "stuffed eggs," regardless of what the religious right would have you believe.)
And it came to pass, and they were good.
Then Man (and Woman) started "improving" them.
Like all things Divine, humans have messed up deviled eggs. The simplest culinary concoction there is, and humans have to "perfect" them.
Deviled eggs, in their purest form, are perfect. Like my mother and grandmother, I don't measure anything when it comes to making them, but here's the rough idea:
Desired quantity of hard-boiled eggs
Mustard, to taste
Mayo, to taste
salt, to taste
Paprika
Slice eggs vertically, then scoop out yolks. Smash yolks, adding desired amounts of mustard, mayo and salt. (I go light-handed on the mustard.) Put mashed-up concoction into a Ziploc bag, and snip off one of the corners of the bag. (Cook's note: It's less messy if you snip off a corner where the concoction doesn't lay.) Squirt concoction through snipped corner into hollow egg whites, filling to top. After filled, sprinkle eggs with paprika. Refrigerate, and consume at will.
Now, how hard is that?
I love shrimp, pickle relish, onions, vinegar and other flavorings, but they have no business in deviled eggs. Save the relish and onions for a hot dog, use the vinegar for one of the many reasons God intended, and grill the shrimp on the Barby. Just KISS.
***
Have a blessed Easter, everyone!
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
You'll shoot your eye out, kid
I don't know if I can ever forgive Robert Clark for forcing Rhinestone on the world.
The only redeeming value to it was that it starred that other East Tennessee gal, Dolly Parton. I remember watching it at the drive-in and thinking, "What the hell does Sly Stallone think he's doing up there? He can't sing. Heck, he can't really act!"
Pitiful, it was.
I can forgive Clark that one transgression. The man directed "Porky's," after all. Sophomoric though it was, it gave me more than one giggle as I watched it in my youth.
(Why do I all of a sudden want to call a bar and ask for Mike Hunt, a la Bart Simpson? I can hear Moe asking, "Mike Hunt? Is Mike Hunt here? I have a call for Mike Hunt." I'll be damned if I didn't laugh outloud while typing that. See? "Porky's" was good for something.)
But Clark's masterpiece was the holiday classic, "A Christmas Story." Little Ralphie and his Red Ryder are as much a part of Christmas as Santa Claus. I can't even pick my favorite part of that movie ...
Robert Clark, that brilliant mastermind whose direction brought Ralphie to life, was killed with his son today on an LA highway. http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/Movies/04/04/obit.clark.ap/index.html?eref=rss_showbiz.
The father and son lost their lives in a head-on collision with a drunk driver who, of course, sustained minor injuries. Such a sad and senseless end to a man whose leaves a holiday legacy that gives so many a reason to smile.
Thanks for the laughs, Bob. We'll try hard not to shoot our eyes out.
The only redeeming value to it was that it starred that other East Tennessee gal, Dolly Parton. I remember watching it at the drive-in and thinking, "What the hell does Sly Stallone think he's doing up there? He can't sing. Heck, he can't really act!"
Pitiful, it was.
I can forgive Clark that one transgression. The man directed "Porky's," after all. Sophomoric though it was, it gave me more than one giggle as I watched it in my youth.
(Why do I all of a sudden want to call a bar and ask for Mike Hunt, a la Bart Simpson? I can hear Moe asking, "Mike Hunt? Is Mike Hunt here? I have a call for Mike Hunt." I'll be damned if I didn't laugh outloud while typing that. See? "Porky's" was good for something.)
But Clark's masterpiece was the holiday classic, "A Christmas Story." Little Ralphie and his Red Ryder are as much a part of Christmas as Santa Claus. I can't even pick my favorite part of that movie ...
- The Chinese waiters singing "Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra."
- "Oh, fuuuuuuuuuuddgeeeeeee ..."
- "It's a major award!"
- "You broke it on purpose!"
- "It was (gasp!) soap poisoning."
- The Bumpuses' dogs (all 17 of 'em) sneaking into the house to scarf down the turkey while Darren McGavin hunches behind his newspaper.
- Mrs. Schwartz, though we never see her, screaming, "What!?! What!?!" and pulverizing her son because she thinks he taught Ralphie to use the F-bomb.
- And, of course, "You'll shoot your eye out!"
Robert Clark, that brilliant mastermind whose direction brought Ralphie to life, was killed with his son today on an LA highway. http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/Movies/04/04/obit.clark.ap/index.html?eref=rss_showbiz.
The father and son lost their lives in a head-on collision with a drunk driver who, of course, sustained minor injuries. Such a sad and senseless end to a man whose leaves a holiday legacy that gives so many a reason to smile.
Thanks for the laughs, Bob. We'll try hard not to shoot our eyes out.
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