Good Read/Bad Read

I don't get much time to read these days so, when I do find a few minutes, I want to read something good.  Something that will grab hold of my soggy brain and hang onto it!  Something that will overcome my fruit-fly-focus.  Most of the time, I am not successful (see Bad Read).  But every so often, I come across a book that I just cannot get enough of. 

The Good Read

Up in the Old Hotel by Joseph Mitchell
Joseph Mitchell was a journalist in New York City in the 1930s.  This collection (published, I believe, in 1993) includes stories from the New Yorker and from four books he had published over 30 years.  The stories give you a peek at New York City's crotchety, peculiar, special inhabitants in such a straightforward, but endearing way - it's fascinating!  There's a bearded lady, a child genius, a seafoodatarian (even then!), and an array of codgerly characters.  There is one passage that I was going to include verbatim, but it's too long and some of you might fall asleep while doing something dangerous - like pressure canning....it starts on page 409, if you are so inclined.  I have been reading it at every spare moment.  If you can get your hands on this book, I would highly recommend it.

The Bad Read

How many times do I have to repeat the same poor judgement?  Many times, it seems.  I was one of the early followers of Mary Janes Farm.  As a matter of fact, I met my friends Marianne and Rosie through the forum on her site, some six years ago.  Then, as all things Internet seem to go, she became an industry.  She became a frilly Martha Stewart, an organic Pioneer Woman.  When she first launched her magazine, it was charming.  Then it became cloying and downright silly.  In my opinion (all opinions stated here are mine and darn opinionated I am), her use of the term "Farm Girl" has completely lost touch with any farm reality.  Given, there's the caveat: "of the Heart" attached to Farm Girl, included, I assume, so that every girl of every age (and with deep pockets and a penchant to gluing lace on everything) can be the farm girl they dream of.  Why, for a yearly fee, you can belong to the Farm Girl Sisterhood!  Geez.  While she did reintroduce handcrafts, and gives "merit badges" to her numbered Sisterhood members, paying for it?  Just figure - you hand over $25 a year and get a number.  In order to hang onto that number, you keep handing over money every year.  Cha-ching! MaryJanesFarm.  (I am now stepping off my orange crate.) 

I have not read the magazine for years.  I tried to like it - I kept my subscription going but, after a while I just couldn't justify spending money on it.  Years later, along comes an offer in the mail to try it for free - no obligation.  What the heck?, I asked myself.  Maybe they've come to their senses.  NOT.  It is worse than before, if that is even possible.  It is cover to cover advertising and self promotion, with articles designed to disappear into the advertising.  The invoice (which I received BEFORE the magazine) was promptly sent back with "Do Not Continue" and "Not Vaguely Interested" written across from it.  Needless to say, I would highly recommend not reading MaryJanesFarm Magazine.

Monday Musings.

Having just lived through the planning, schlepping and celebrating of my dad's surprise 90th birthday party, I have been musing about family.  That is always a rather frustrating muse.  I am very lucky in that my parents are a) still together after 60-something years; b) relatively healthy for their advanced ages; and c) still living pretty much on their own.  Because I live the closest, I am the 'overseer' of their affairs.  I also am the one to tote them to non-local doctor appointments, the chauffeur for visiting relatives (very important to them as the years stack up), and I check on them every weekend.  I love my parents.  They are funny and dear, and (mostly) a joy to spend time with.  My friends love them and the feeling is mutual - as witnessed at my dad's party.  For a while there, we thought it might have been TOO much of a surprise, but he rallied.

After spending any time with my sisters, I always muse about what it would be like if we all got to choose our own siblings.  Would you choose the self-same sisters?  Brothers?  Trade up?  Try another ethnicity?  Get older/younger siblings?  Mix it up?  I know a young woman who was raised in a fairly unconventional family.  When each new baby was born, the older siblings got to choose the name.  I can tell you there are some 'unusual' names in that family.  When she had children of her own, I believe they followed suit - for the first.  Whose name is Birch (names changed to protect the innocent).  Let's just say it is a type of tree.  I think that it would be fun to be able to choose your own name.  I would never leave that in the hands of my sisters.  Heaven only knows who I'd be today - Howdy Dotty?  Hopalong Cassie?  Bugs Bunny?

We have a very small family.  And a scattered family.  Once upon a time in Ohio, I was very close to my Great Aunt Edie and her brother, Great Uncle Ben.  They were two of the most regulated old people I have every met in my life.  GUB was a curmudgeon - who ate his meals at the exact same time every day, same thing every meal, with some slight variations during the dinner hour.  He was very bright and invented all kinds of things.  He invented a bird feeder that fed birds by body weight - he hated squirrels.  My GAE was a corker.  I spent a lot of time with her - she could knit a highly complicated pattern, in mohair, while carrying on a conversation, listening to the radio and watching television.  One of my first memories of her was when I was around 5 and we had moved to Ohio from Virginia into a rented house (the house that caused my fear of bathtubs).  The house was an odd configuration - you had to go through a bedroom to reach the bathroom.  GAE was staying with us and late one night, as I started to make my way to the bathroom, I was gripped with fear -- there was a wild beast in the house!  A tiger waiting to pounce on me and eat me!  I ran screaming into my parents' room, hoping they could rescue me.  It turned out to be GAE sawing lumber in the guest bed.  Holy Moley, that woman could snore!

Eureka!

I've found the cure for drought!  Forget your rain dances - all I have to do is take a vacation day to run errands all over God's Green Earth.  It rained in sheets yesterday - Hurry!  Do not wait -- I only have two more weeks left.  Sign up now! 

Scrappy has been relegated to house clown.  I was thinking of adding some ruffles.  Too much?  One of the cats - OnceSlim - is terrified of him in his new get-up and will only walk on the counters or furniture if Scrappy is in the same room.  What a bunch of nuts.

Why do you mock me?

You can put this stuff on EVERYTHING!



The lowly nut of the pea.



Well, maybe not on herring or sardines.  I suppose, if you have a cast iron stomach and a penchant for some serious food fusion, you could.  But this is my new favorite sauce that I have put on tofu, rice, noodles, chicken, pork, and green beans.  And I have just started - nothing is safe.  The sauce recipe originated from the Vegan Coach.  While I am a little leery of a vegan queen called Sassy with a newsletter entitled the "Golden Banana", she does have some great sauce, dip and dressing recipes that are gluten free. 

Anyhoo, I have tweaked this recipe often, as every time I get the burning urge to make it, I am missing an ingredient or two.  It is very forgiving.  And delicious:

Rich Vegan Peanut Sauce

1/4 Cup Tamari (smoother taste) or Bragg's Liquid Aminos (saltier)

1/8 Cup brown rice vinegar (I usually use regular rice vinegar and it's fine)

1/3 Cup water
1 Tablespoon pure maple syrup (have used agave nectar as well)
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1- inch piece fresh ginger (or ground, to taste)
2/3 Cup chunky peanut butter (I use creamy, 'cause that's what I have)
2 Tablespoons toasted sesame oil (I usually use more because I LOVE it)
1/2 teaspoon paprika (forgot it this time and the sauce survived)
1-2 teaspoons hot pepper sauce (or red pepper flakes) or to taste

Combine all the ingredients in a food processor or blender and puree until smooth.  You can adjust the thick/thin-ness of it by either adding more peanut butter or more water.  Serve immediately or chill.  Let the sauce come to room temperature before serving.  I have kept this in the fridge for weeks.

Durned if you do.

I am a lover of all things bird.  Crows, ravens, starlings, sparrows, chickens, Guinea hens (so far), emus; but - most especially - hummingbirds.  They are miracles.  They are true shining gems.  I cannot get enough of them.  And, apparently, I am killing them. 

Good grief.  I have been going merrily along, using my red nectar concentrate in my two feeders.  Then I get the news:  studies have found that red food coloring can damage their hard-working little hearts!  As soon as I got home yesterday, I went out and retrieved both feeders and emptied them in my compost heap.  Of course, as soon as I did that, I regretted it.  Would some other critter think there's a great sweet snack in there and more damage would be done?

Of course, you may think I am being a little coy about this -- since I seem to think nothing of vanquishing rats and hornets by any means at my disposal.  I have a startling announcement:  I am not perfect.  There.  It's out.  I choose to group all things living into two (three) categories -- One:  Everything/One I Love.  Two:  Those Few Things/Ones I Hate.  Three:  Those Things/Ones I Fear.  I am not apologizing for my wishy-washy-ness.  I have enough trouble dealing with my recycling - and the onus of 'stuff' and 'too much stuff'. 

Ooookay.  Back to the subject.  I thoroughly cleaned both feeders and put some simple syrup (extra light that I had made to can peaches) in them and trotted them outside.  Then I worried that they would be too cold, as it had been stored in the fridge, so I brought them back in the house and let them sit on the counter until they reached room temperature.  (Swatting a few flies in the process - Flies fall under Category Two).  Then I decided that the older one wasn't bright enough (how could they FIND it?), so I hunted up a vibrant red ribbon (hoping that the dye wouldn't run off and into the feeder if it rained - lord help me), tied it on and put them back on their outside hangers.

Glinda (okay - it's a male Ruby-Throated Hummer, but the name has stuck) found the glammed-up old one and took a sip.  He didn't fall from the sky.

I hope I can sleep after all this angst.

Monday Musings.

This falls under the "Is nothing sacred!?!" category - Olympic badminton players booted for match-throwing?  I am as competitive as the next person (and maybe quite a BIT more competitive than the next person), but the need to win, to be the best, to be on top is really getting out of hand.  Steroids, human growth hormones, drugs; the things people put into their bodies to be the best is just logic-defying.  Of course, most of that drive is fueled by greed -- let's face it; is there any reason some very tall person who barely squeaked through high school (then was fast-walked through college) should be paid millions of dollars a year?  And families are out on the street, losing their homes?  This country is definitely unbalanced.

Charlie Horse.  I had one.  Then I spent way too much time trying to figure out where that term came from (from whence cometh that term?).  Was Charlie Augustus BoDidley kicked in the leg by his horse back in 1804?  Did Charlie's horse have problems with his legs?  Is this an old American Indian ailment?  All I know for sure is that it felt like something kicked me....

Optical illusion - glancing in my rear view mirror this morning, I gasp --  Good lord!  Did I leave the house without combing my hair??? (It wouldn't be the first time, especially on a Monday.)  No, thank goodness.  It's the bundle of electronet in the back of the car.

Seething Sitting in traffic last week, I was trapped behind a large sparkly white Lexus SUV which sported the following license plate:  INDMAND.  From what I could see from the driver, it was a sleek, sparkly blond woman with lots of bling - the sun glinted off her jewelry as she lifted her cell phone to her ear.  If I ever put together a dictionary, right next to "Vanity Plates" I would put her picture.  I mean.  Really.  As the lane of traffic to my right inched by (notice, I was in the stationery lane), I spotted another vanity plate - BLSKYABV.  It was attached to a powder blue Cadillac with a resin sculpture of an alligator holding a golf ball in its mouth.  I don't think I need to elaborate on that one.

This made me wonder about why anyone would want to make their license plates stand out.  These must be people who a) never break the law; b) always drive the speed limit; c) have no one out to get them.  (Well, Ms. INDMAND seems to have quite a following, and she must want them to get her....)  Me?  I would rather fade into the furniture.  I revel in mediocrity. 

The good points - and bad points - of Square Inch Gardening.

Yes, folks.  You heard it here first.  I am practicing Square Inch Gardening.  I told you I had a competitive streak!  So, how is it faring in this challenging gardening year?  Let's take a look, shall we?

First, the 'Good Points'.

It's a jungle in there!

The dense, jungle-like mass of vegetation provides cover and keeps in moisture.  It also limits the amount of weeds that crop up.

When you do have to water - you can water quite a lot with a few small buckets.  And it's all in one place.  So you can be pretty lazy about it - even if you DO winge and whine and carry on because it's hot and humid and there are bugs.

Your entire salad is in a 4 x 8 foot area.  Basil, cukes, peppers, tomatoes.  One-stop dinner gathering.

It's SO dense that the plants provide support for each other - there's no place else to go!

Now, the "Bad Points".

It's a dense, jungle-like mass of vegetation.

There are scary spiders in it that bite you if you just poke your hands in, trying desperately to find a cucumber that hasn't grown to zeppelin size.

There ARE zeppelin sized cucumbers.

I swear that cucumber in the middle was only
two inches long yesterday - honest!

Your peppers don't stand a chance.

Seriously, it has worked out pretty well, although I will NOT plant four cucumber plants around a tiny-but-decorative-trellis.  I will try mightily to keep to two plants - one regular and one of the Japanese variety.  My pumpkin/summer/winter squash bed has taken off and the plants are making a wild attempt to break the barriers of their tiny bed (5x8).  I finally gave in and fenced in the bed that I didn't fill in.  I'm trying to get everyone to grow in that direction.  So far, it's like herding cats.

Pumpkins, making a break for it...

My horseradish is flourishing in its hillbilly planter.  I have tons of potatoes, although my experiment in
'hilling' with straw did not work.  There are a lot of spuds in the dirt layer - but nary a one (so far as I can tell) in the straw layer.

My horseradish is all 'perky'.

New type of tomato this year - it's almost black when it's ripe.
Doubt that would be a great market variety, but I think it's cool!

I have tons of tomatoes - all green.  Why, I ask you, is it that your tomatoes do not ripen when your zucchini does?  How the heck am I supposed to make ratatouille?   Hmmmm?  And I don't want to hear from those of you who planted everything at its proper time and have synchronized ripening going on.