What we enjoyed with last night with friends:
Cream Cheese and Chutney with Whole Wheat Crackers
Richard's Sumptuous Salad
French Bread and Butter
Pepper Dijon Pork Cutlets
Kale with Portobello Mushrooms
Bowtie Pasta with Olive Oil and Garlic
Irish Coffee
Pepper Dijon Pork Cutlets
1 1/2 pound boneless pork loin, cut 1/4 inch thick
Nonstick spray
Seasoned salt
1 cup sauvignon blanc
1/4 cup Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon crushed green peppercorns
Season pork with seasoned salt. In large heavy skillet, over medium-high heat, brown pork on both sides. Remove pork from skillet. Keep warm in 200 degree oven while making sauce. Deglaze skillet with wine. Whisk in Dijon mustard and crushed peppercorns. Heat to boiling. Pour over pork. Serve with potatoes or pasta.
Kale with Portobello Mushrooms
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 pound sliced portobellos
1 cup red wine
1 pound kale, chopped
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 8 ounce can sliced water chestnuts
Salt
Black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon sugar or sugar substitute
Heat olive oil in large skillet, over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms. Cover and fry, stirring occasionally until brown and tender. Deglaze skillet with wine. Add all other ingredients. Cover skillet. Reduce heat to medium. Cook until kale is tender, 20-30 minutes. This can be tossed with bowtie pasta or served alone as a side dish.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Foggy Feelings
Fog over the water is eerie to me;
The sea has become the sky,
And the sky has become the sea.
Many lured by the sirens' songs
Realize too late that
Their direction is wrong.
We're back home after years away.
There is no way to predict
How long, this time, we'll stay.
Our life's seas have been rough,
Our ride has been quite wild
For me, being partners is enough.
The captain of my ship is off;
May his journey be safe,
And his landing be soft,
His mission be noble, his path true.
May his reward be the pleasure
In the work that he'll do.
The sea has become the sky,
And the sky has become the sea.
Many lured by the sirens' songs
Realize too late that
Their direction is wrong.
We're back home after years away.
There is no way to predict
How long, this time, we'll stay.
Our life's seas have been rough,
Our ride has been quite wild
For me, being partners is enough.
The captain of my ship is off;
May his journey be safe,
And his landing be soft,
His mission be noble, his path true.
May his reward be the pleasure
In the work that he'll do.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Back on the Banks of Lake Pontchartrain
We're back on the banks of Lake Pontchartrain,
My Richard, Waggy, her puppies, and me.
The leaves in the mountains on the way down
Were such a sight for us all to see.
It was quite a sight for others,
Passing by Waggy's loaded truck;
We had everything but the kitchen sink
And a many pointed handsome buck.
We had not enough room for a postage stamp
Under Waggy's big blue FEMA tarp,
And Waggy had to content herself
With a space not big enough for a dog's bark.
Six hundred miles Richard drove us
As we chatted about our sixty years
He never once complained
Probably glad there were no tears.
That's one thing about my friend Waggy
She and I always find a way to laugh
Even when she takes upon herself
What seem to others impossible tasks.
After all she's done to help us
In our overwhelming partial move
She says it was the kind of vacation
Of which she and her puppies approve.
My Richard, Waggy, her puppies, and me.
The leaves in the mountains on the way down
Were such a sight for us all to see.
It was quite a sight for others,
Passing by Waggy's loaded truck;
We had everything but the kitchen sink
And a many pointed handsome buck.
We had not enough room for a postage stamp
Under Waggy's big blue FEMA tarp,
And Waggy had to content herself
With a space not big enough for a dog's bark.
Six hundred miles Richard drove us
As we chatted about our sixty years
He never once complained
Probably glad there were no tears.
That's one thing about my friend Waggy
She and I always find a way to laugh
Even when she takes upon herself
What seem to others impossible tasks.
After all she's done to help us
In our overwhelming partial move
She says it was the kind of vacation
Of which she and her puppies approve.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
The Wonderful Whirlwind Waggy
Wow! What a whirlwind we've brought to our house in the holler. My friend since I was five came with us for a visit as we prepare to put our mountain home on the vacation rental market. She said that she needed a vacation from her duties taking care of her eighty-five-year-old father in Louisiana. Never have I seen a vacation quite like the way Waggy does it.
As soon as we arrived, Waggy announced that she wanted to attend Deborah's twice-a-week exercise classes. These aren't senior citizen stretches; this is a wonder woman workout. Like this isn't enough bending and stretching for anybody, Waggy also accompanied Judi to a two-hour Yoga lesson on an off day for exercise class. This is Waggy's idea of relaxation. Now for what she does for fun...
Thus far, she's cleaned cobwebs, washed windows, prettied up the porch, done loads of laundry, bailed and scrubbed buckets that had collected stagnant water, and painted the back door, swept, mopped, dusted, and generally kept things clean while I pack. She's also willing to help tote boxes to the heap of things coming south with us. This is all worked around her at-home exercises and caring for her two active house dogs.
My recently deceased eighty-four year old mother, who lived next door to Waggy's dad for over fifty years, used to say, as she watched Waggy work on her dad's house, that everybody needed a Waggy. Now I know what she meant. Wonder woman has nothing on our wonderful Waggy.
As soon as we arrived, Waggy announced that she wanted to attend Deborah's twice-a-week exercise classes. These aren't senior citizen stretches; this is a wonder woman workout. Like this isn't enough bending and stretching for anybody, Waggy also accompanied Judi to a two-hour Yoga lesson on an off day for exercise class. This is Waggy's idea of relaxation. Now for what she does for fun...
Thus far, she's cleaned cobwebs, washed windows, prettied up the porch, done loads of laundry, bailed and scrubbed buckets that had collected stagnant water, and painted the back door, swept, mopped, dusted, and generally kept things clean while I pack. She's also willing to help tote boxes to the heap of things coming south with us. This is all worked around her at-home exercises and caring for her two active house dogs.
My recently deceased eighty-four year old mother, who lived next door to Waggy's dad for over fifty years, used to say, as she watched Waggy work on her dad's house, that everybody needed a Waggy. Now I know what she meant. Wonder woman has nothing on our wonderful Waggy.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Losses and Life
There are many people in my life who aren't afraid of death;
It hurts my feelings because they put me in a mess.
If they are not grieving because they're sure of eternity,
It wouldn't be right for me to cry while they hold me.
I know that they feel they are just passing over
To a place where they can sit on their god's shoulders,
But it would be nice to have a tearful goodbye
Before they leave me alone to cry.
I will miss their physical selves in my life
Their smiles, words, and laughter that soothe my strife.
How can dying people be so blissfully blind
To the holes in the hearts of those left behind?
How can I be so foolish as to continue making friends,
Knowing the grief I'll feel when their lives end?
My broken heart, I don't have time to mend it
Before another loss appears to rend it.
Yesterday was two of my oldest and dearest
And another with whom I feel a kindred spirit.
I'm hard pressed to say which is most inviting
Shared history is comforting; discovery is exciting.
Still I force myself to open my heart and celebrate
With family, old friends, and new, and my mate
Then I review the memories on these pages
For reliving during our last life stages.
It hurts my feelings because they put me in a mess.
If they are not grieving because they're sure of eternity,
It wouldn't be right for me to cry while they hold me.
I know that they feel they are just passing over
To a place where they can sit on their god's shoulders,
But it would be nice to have a tearful goodbye
Before they leave me alone to cry.
I will miss their physical selves in my life
Their smiles, words, and laughter that soothe my strife.
How can dying people be so blissfully blind
To the holes in the hearts of those left behind?
How can I be so foolish as to continue making friends,
Knowing the grief I'll feel when their lives end?
My broken heart, I don't have time to mend it
Before another loss appears to rend it.
Yesterday was two of my oldest and dearest
And another with whom I feel a kindred spirit.
I'm hard pressed to say which is most inviting
Shared history is comforting; discovery is exciting.
Still I force myself to open my heart and celebrate
With family, old friends, and new, and my mate
Then I review the memories on these pages
For reliving during our last life stages.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Midtown Magic
I experienced midtown magic in my trip to New Orleans,
Where the people are so real and the trees are evergreen.
This is the essence of New Orleans that I so dearly love,
The one of my childhood, before the working class got shoved:
Moved into to the suburbs and the city's periphery,
With the promise of housing that would be rent free.
They moved to secure their piece of the American dream,
Never realizing this was a political and corporate scheme.
With the advent of a new city caused by a hurricane,
The essence of the working class, in midtown remains.
There are divas dressed to die for still meeting for lunch,
With shoe polish black hair and hair as pink as punch.
There are old time politicos whose children now rule,
Hoping for anonymity as they set on their bar stools.
The smell of sweet olive trees may not permeate,
But the shade of the lives oaks is still something to celebrate.
The friend that I met for lunch certainly spoke to my soul
When she shared that in the Bible Belt she didn't feel quite whole.
She shared that her child had asked her about the people who were left out
Of the fundamentalist beliefs that Bible preachers love to shout.
She said that she and her husband, a moral Jewish man,
Were seen as not equal parts of the Christian salvation plan.
New Orleans has always been a center of spiritual openness
And the mistakes in relationships, the people are quick to confess.
I cannot think of a better way to live until I die
Than celebrating we're all human, as long as we continue to try.
We are very outspoken about where our boundaries really are,
So that those at our same parties won't rain on our cigars.
We understand that those around us may be on different paths,
And we have the choice to wait for them or to take a pass.
All I ask is that those who say they love me work with who I am
Instead of trying to convince me I was a mistake in their god's plan.
Where the people are so real and the trees are evergreen.
This is the essence of New Orleans that I so dearly love,
The one of my childhood, before the working class got shoved:
Moved into to the suburbs and the city's periphery,
With the promise of housing that would be rent free.
They moved to secure their piece of the American dream,
Never realizing this was a political and corporate scheme.
With the advent of a new city caused by a hurricane,
The essence of the working class, in midtown remains.
There are divas dressed to die for still meeting for lunch,
With shoe polish black hair and hair as pink as punch.
There are old time politicos whose children now rule,
Hoping for anonymity as they set on their bar stools.
The smell of sweet olive trees may not permeate,
But the shade of the lives oaks is still something to celebrate.
The friend that I met for lunch certainly spoke to my soul
When she shared that in the Bible Belt she didn't feel quite whole.
She shared that her child had asked her about the people who were left out
Of the fundamentalist beliefs that Bible preachers love to shout.
She said that she and her husband, a moral Jewish man,
Were seen as not equal parts of the Christian salvation plan.
New Orleans has always been a center of spiritual openness
And the mistakes in relationships, the people are quick to confess.
I cannot think of a better way to live until I die
Than celebrating we're all human, as long as we continue to try.
We are very outspoken about where our boundaries really are,
So that those at our same parties won't rain on our cigars.
We understand that those around us may be on different paths,
And we have the choice to wait for them or to take a pass.
All I ask is that those who say they love me work with who I am
Instead of trying to convince me I was a mistake in their god's plan.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Pets and Safe Bets
I sit and watch out my window how people treat their pets;
This vicarious viewing of other people's lives gives me no regrets.
I think it is good training to have pets before you have kids
This probably would have been better than the way my first husband and I did.
I had always thought that pets could take care of themselves,
Like the stuffed animals that many kept upon their shelves.
The father of my children thought pets should be kept outside
To only be paid any attention if something made them cry.
We were quite the pair to bring children into the world:
A boisterous little boy and a sweet, sensitive baby girl.
It is a source of constant amazement that humans continue to survive
With all the efforts we make sabotaging that for which we say we strive.
Chickens, cows, and horses have more attention paid to breeding
Than those in whom we are, our own genetics, repeating.
There is an accepted adage in lesser animal husbandry
That the offspring will only thrive if the mother is stress free.
Yet we continue to allow breeding women to be abused by their mates
As if this has no effect on their gestating children's fates.
If people can't be bothered to train and care for their helpless pets,
Their children becoming something other than wild animals is not a safe bet.
This vicarious viewing of other people's lives gives me no regrets.
I think it is good training to have pets before you have kids
This probably would have been better than the way my first husband and I did.
I had always thought that pets could take care of themselves,
Like the stuffed animals that many kept upon their shelves.
The father of my children thought pets should be kept outside
To only be paid any attention if something made them cry.
We were quite the pair to bring children into the world:
A boisterous little boy and a sweet, sensitive baby girl.
It is a source of constant amazement that humans continue to survive
With all the efforts we make sabotaging that for which we say we strive.
Chickens, cows, and horses have more attention paid to breeding
Than those in whom we are, our own genetics, repeating.
There is an accepted adage in lesser animal husbandry
That the offspring will only thrive if the mother is stress free.
Yet we continue to allow breeding women to be abused by their mates
As if this has no effect on their gestating children's fates.
If people can't be bothered to train and care for their helpless pets,
Their children becoming something other than wild animals is not a safe bet.
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