Beatlemania

My Google news feed has gone into Beatles Overdrive lately. It's obviously in response to my interest in the release of Now and Then, the song touted as The Last Beatles Song. I followed its story and awaited its release and streamed it the moment it became available. I was actually sitting in my car in a parking lot, and as I listened, the moment became a sentimental journey of sorts.

I practically grew up on Beatles music. My sister, seven years my senior, was in the throes of Beatlemania during her teen years. We shared a room, so I was surrounded by The Beatles' pictures and music. She even went to their first concert in Cleveland. I remember watching their performance on The Ed Sullivan Show with her.

We cleaned our room every Saturday listening to Beatles music (and The Hollies, The Association, The Bee Gees, and Simon and Garfunkel). I learned the lyrics by heart. I loved the B side of the 45s just as much as the hits. 

My Google news feed decided I'd want to read this article, which purports to rank all 214 Beatles songs from worst to best. Of course, I had to read it even though it was bound to be patently absurd and ridiculous and completely subjective. 

And it was.

Oh, sure, the author wrote a lot of footnote-worthy, researchy info after each title in order to sound smart and justify his rankings, but here's the thing--it's still just a list of his personal preferences, and it should be taken as such.

I don't think I could list my favourite Beatles songs like that. I like so many of them and for different reasons. And at different times. But here, in no particular order, are some of my favourite Beatles songs:

1. Eight Days A Week:  Love the ooo-oohs in this. And it's so bouncy and fun. 

2. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds:  The lyrics are so interesting. The music is arresting. It's so deeply unusual.

3. Eleanor Rigby:  These lyrics always haunt me. Such a portrait of loneliness. The voice of McCartney is so plaintive.

4. Paperback Writer:  The story moves fast, the music moves fast; it's almost like a Beatles rap. I like the falsetto and the call-back.

5. A Day In The Life:  So innovative. You can enjoy this and respect the artistry at the same time. 

Critics had a lot to say about Now and Then. I just enjoyed being able to have a chance to listen to The Beatles again, and it was more of a sentimental appreciation than anything else. Technology can never truly recapture The Beatles, but this song was an awfully good try.

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T Is For Tea

It's almost week ago since Rick and I returned from a relaxing and long overdue visit with friends in Southern Maryland. We talked, ate shrimp, oysters, and crabcakes, watched fun movies, visited a local winery, and drank wine. And, for the first time in a long time, I drank a couple of glasses of Iced Tea. 

It's strange, this estrangement between Tea and me. I grew up on the stuff, both hot and iced. Each was a significant presence in my life at home. 

As a kid I was often sick--earaches, chest colds, sore throats, high fevers--these were my common companions throughout my childhood. I could spend hours and hours coughing, trying to sleep propped up on pillows or rolled blankets. You name the illness and I got it--measles, rubella, scarlet fever, mono, bronchitis, strep throat, and a bout of chicken pox at the age of fifteen that was so rampant and hideous that my brother, seventeen and also stricken, covered the mirrors in the house so we wouldn't have to see ourselves. (Those blisters were everywhere on our bodies. Everywhere.) 

One weapon in my mother's arsenal against all illnesses was Hot Tea. Hot Tea with lemon was her go-to for soothing just about everything. It was going to help my cough, my congestion, my sore throat, and it would help me sleep. (It is important to note here that her cure for stress and headaches, however, was not Hot Tea. Those were cured by Putting Your Hands In Warm Dishwater. I'm sure you understand her strategy.)

I drank in my youth probably several tanker trucks full of Hot Tea. My father was also a fan of Hot Tea, which he would on very rare occasions lace with wine. Because of all the medicinal Hot Tea I drank, I now associate Hot Tea with illness. I cannot stand to drink it at all. Thankfully, there are herbal Teas that contain little or no Tea whatsoever, and I can drink them when I want a comforting hot drink on a cold afternoon.

In addition to Hot Tea, we also had Iced Tea regularly in our home. My mother was an Iced Tea addict, and a gallon pitcher of it, homemade, was always in the refrigerator. She had an enamel saucepan designated solely for Tea making, and in it she would place (I think) seven or eight Teabags, and cover them with water, and set it to boil on the stove. That would boil frantically, and she'd set it to simmer for a time as she filled the gallon pitcher with ice, a half of a lemon squeezed and tossed in, and a scant cup of sugar. She'd let the water run ice cold, grab her long-handled spoon, and then the pan of hot Tea. After squeezing the Teabags dry against the side of the pan with her spoon, she'd quickly pour the Tea over the ice and start stirring and filling the pitcher to the top with water. We never once had cloudy Iced Tea, thanks to this method, a method I perpetuated in my own home once I was married. (But I skipped the lemon. Too reminiscent of Hot Tea.)

There was never, ever a time that my mother was without a glass of her Iced Tea by her side. As a matter of fact, once, when called home from her job at the bank because of an emergency (I had attempted to shave my legs in secret and cut a huge swath off the front of my shin and was bleeding), she bustled in the side door, dropped her purse, and before she did a single thing, poured herself a huge glass of Iced Tea. Then, and only then, did she call out to me and ask what on earth had I done to myself. 

My Iced Tea days fell by the wayside years and years ago, partially due to my migraine medication.  It's important that I drink water on this medication, and it has also rendered Tea almost flavourless to me. Thus, it seemed a heck of a lot of work to make Tea when I could--and should--just drink water if they tasted pretty much the same anyway. 

Ironically, my mother doesn't make or drink Iced Tea anymore. Occasionally, she'll get it at a restaurant. She drinks Hot Tea now and then, but she prefers coffee. Rick is the Tea Drinker, having given up coffee due to blood pressure and stomach concerns. He especially likes Earl Grey, which smells so much like Hot Tea with lemon to me that it sometimes gives me little flashbacks and twinges of feeling sick. And no, I'm not being dramatic; there's Science behind that reaction. Imagine if I were British! I'd have to renounce my citizenship.

Tell me about your Life With (or Without) Tea in Comments. 

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R Is For Red

When I think of Red, my favourite colour, I often think of my Aunt Berthie, my grandma's little sister. My grandma was named Ethel, and her two living sisters were named Grace and Bertha. They had a baby sister named Ruth, but she died tragically at a very young age. Berthie became the baby of the family.

I rarely saw Aunt Berthie, and I saw even less of her husband Babe. (I'm awfully sure Babe was a pet name, but I have zero interest in knowing his real name. Berthie and Babe is such a terrific name for an elderly couple, don't you think?) Babe was always spoken about with a downcast look and a woeful head shake. "Babe's just not doing so good," someone always said. Or, "Babe's going downhill." For my entire childhood, Babe was doing poorly or dying, it seemed, but he always hung on. To this day, I have no idea what Babe's problem was, or if he simply preferred to keep to himself and claiming poor health was the only way to do it.

Anyway, back to Aunt Berthie and the colour Red.

Aunt Berthie was petite and slim and quick in her movements. She had snowy hair, cut short, and she spoke very fast. She liked to wear more sporty clothes and bright colours. My grandmother was methodical, deliberate, and wore hearing aids. Grandma worried that some prints were Too Loud, or even worse, Kiddish (too youthful). She had terrible arthritis in her feet and had to wear orthopedic shoes that were specially fitted. 

I once accompanied Grandma and Aunt Berthie on a shopping trip, probably for fabric, and we went to pick Aunt Berthie up at her house. We went in, and Uncle Babe was not available for a visit, of course, due to his declining health. Aunt Berthie put on a pair of bright Red Keds to match her outfit, and I saw my grandmother wince. "Oh, Berthie. Why oh why are you going to wear those red canvas shoes? They're so kiddish!"

Aunt Berthie turned to look at Grandma and cocked her head quizzically. She said, "Why, Ethel--" and I honestly could not tell you what else she said, she spoke so fast. She spread her hands across her Red skirt and looked at my grandma.

Grandma said, "Those Red culottes are so loud, and with those shoes!" She put her hand on the side of her face like she was in pain. Then she reached for her purse and the discussion was over. Aunt Berthie said a few more things in a rapid stream on our way out to the car, and we were off.

I was hugely entertained by the entire scene because my grandmother was the closest thing to a perfect human being I ever knew. Her few impatient outbursts were always funny because they were so rare. And the contrast between her and her sister was enormous.

This summer I found myself thinking of my Aunt Berthie as I was driving to the grocery store. I passed by this house as its awnings were being painted, closely supervised by a snowy-haired, tiny lady.

I want you to know that there is a lightpost painted bright Red, an address plate also painted bright Red, and her car in the garage is a fire engine Red compact SUV. All of the awnings on the side of the house are Red, and I'm sure if there are any on the back, they are Red as well.

If she were alive, this would be my Aunt Berthie's dream house, and my grandma would have cringed and sighed every time her Oldsmobile rolled up its driveway. 

I bet the lady who lives here loves her Loud Red, Red house.

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Q Is For Quicky Questions

Right now I have a great many Questions:  Where is Fall? Why am I sweltering in 80 degree heat and high humidity? How much longer am I going to have to run my air conditioner, and will I merely switch it over to the furnace and not be able to have any fresh air in my house, ever? Will the godawful black walnut tree behind us never be done dropping its fruit, fronds, and general detritus into my landscaping and pond? Why are the cats such shits about being brushed? And whose underwear is this, left in the middle of the sidewalk next door, discovered by Yours Truly on my walk today?

But those are all Imponderables, and best left for another day when I'm not feeling so snarky. And fussy. And Over It.

Instead, let's have some fun, Quicky Questions for a fluffy post. Here we go.

1. Favourite Colour?

Red

2.  Reading?

The new biography of Oscar Wilde, Oscar Wilde:  A Life by Matthew Sturgis is being delivered tomorrow!

3.  Streaming/Watching?

ER

4.  Wine?

(Yes, please.) We've found a label we really like, Z. Alexander Brown, out of California. I'm back onto cabernet sauvignon for my all-purpose red and (Barton & Guestier) vouvray for my AP white.

5.  Latest Food Obsession?

Haagen Dazs Chocolate Peanut Butter Ice Cream

Making my own spice blend coffee

6.  What will you miss about summer?

Boating

7.  Which childhood dream of yours did you fulfill?

Among others, I became a teacher.

8.  What historical figure do you wish you could go back in time and meet?

President Abraham Lincoln

9.  What three words can describe you well?

Intelligent, kind, impatient

10.  Did you play a sport in school?

Oh, heck no.

11.  What's the last thing you bought for yourself?

The aforementioned book and two cozy cardigan sweaters.

12.  Are there places you do or don't shop/patronize because of your political beliefs?

Absolutely. I believe in voting with my wallet.

13.  Do you like your name? If not, what do you wish your name was?

Hate, hate, hate my given name. I wanted to be named Samantha, which was my grandmother's name for me.

14.  What popular phrase or saying really gets on your nerves?

It is what it is. 

15.  You find a hundred dollar bill in your mailbox. What will you do with it?

I put it in my wallet and wait for the time to come when I want or need something unexpectedly. 

Your turn.  I can't wait to see your responses to any or all of these Quicky Questions in Comments.

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P Is For Pizza

 Before I begin with the scheduled post, allow me to update you on Rick's condition and what's been happening with regard to his accident a whole month ago (which seems incredible). Briefly:  after a follow-up with his doctor, a bone scan and chest xray with contrast were ordered; those tests revealed that more injuries were sustained in the accident, including a stress fracture of his foot, three compression fractures in his spine, a broken sternum, a skull fracture, and a mild collapse of the lower lobe of his lung. He's feeling the most pain from his broken sternum, but overall, he's working and doing okay. We hired an attorney, which has made both of us feel much better. The stress was affecting the health of us both terribly. It's a huge relief to have a professional take over. We can breathe and live again.

On to regularly scheduled programming.

When I was growing up, my mother cooked dinner every single night. We had her tossed salad with homemade vinaigrette, meat, a veg, and potatoes or some other starch. Once in a while there was spaghetti, chili, or sloppy joes, all of which tasted vaguely the same to me. There was no carryout, no KFC, no fast food, and certainly no Pizza. I never even thought about it; that's just The Way Things Were.

Suddenly, my father's job changed and he was put on shifts. After working steady days for decades, he had to start working nights and our personal favourite, three to eleven. We'd get home from school and know that all of us could kind of loosen up, especially Mom. And dinner was more casual. That's when Pizza started coming into our lives more regularly. And what Pizza it was!

Giovanni's Pizza was South Lorain's go-to Pizza place. It was situated mere blocks from US Steel and was in a dilapidated one-story, flat-roofed storefront. When you walked in to grab your Pizza, you could see the women in the back behind the counter working on the pies, all business with ladles of sauce, handfuls of cheese and sausage, their motions purposeful and quick. It was steamy and smelled fantastic. Giovanni's was always busy because their Pizza was the best.

When Dad worked three to eleven, we'd bug Mom to get Pizza for dinner. My mother was never too hard to convince; she was a pushover about most things. She always insisted upon still making a salad, though, and sometimes even a separate vegetable to accompany it, much to our dismay. Pizza, salad, and corn was often a Three To Eleven Meal in our house.

Giovanni's Pizza was hearty with a ton of cheese and a thick sauce, as you can see in the photo above. The crust was sturdy but not tough, and the toppings often went almost to its edges. To this day, my brother and sister still get Giovanni's Pizza, but I haven't had any in ages. Giovanni's has renovated their place and now offers salads and, oddly, chili dogs. 

I'm not a huge fan of Pizza now. When Rick and I do order Pizza, we order from a local bistro. We get thin crust, and I don't eat a whole lot of it. Honestly, I get a little bored. It's ironic, but I often wish I had a salad or something along with it. 

I prefer to make Pizza at home, and we use flatbreads from a Cleveland baking company as the crust. Rick puts them on the grill. My favourite one is using my homemade pesto, tomatoes marinated in some balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and fresh mozzarella. We also make pepperoni flatbreads, and use this Pizza sauce, and if I have mushrooms or peppers, I'll saute those and add  kalamata olives. We've used naan as crust, too, and it's delicious. (Also delicious are Dessert Pizzas. I've spread Marshmallow Fluff and topped it with squares from a Hershey bar and grilled that. We've also had thinly sliced apple drizzled with caramel topping. And who is going to say no to Nutella with thinly sliced bananas?) 

Oh, and I'm a big yes to Hawaiian Pizza as long as there's no bacon on it. Just pineapple and a little bit of ham, please. I don't have Pizza Rules, per se. I feel like Pizza should be casual and fun. If you want a Taco Pizza, then have it. Do you want Keto Pizza with cauliflower crust or Vegan Pizza with tofu cheese? I don't care. Do you eat the 99-cent frozen Pizzas from the grocery store after you dress them up? Go ahead. Personally, I buy the Chef Boyardee Pizza kit during the dead of winter and make their crusts, then add all my own stuff to make Pizzas. (Although, since I found such great sauce, I'm going to have to investigate a better crust mix idea. I am not messing with yeast.) 

Anyway, my point--and I do have one--is that Pizza is Not A Big Deal. It's all about what You like. So, tell me--what are your Pizza Memories and what Pizza do you like?

actual Giovanni's pizza!

I Is For Ice Cream

About a hundred years ago when I was in elementary school, our class went on a field trip to The Home Dairy, where we observed milk processing and bottling. After that, we all got to order an ice cream cone and sit outside on a little curb in front of the building. Imagine a long row of little first- or second-graders, all sitting down with single dips of chocolate or vanilla ice cream at their faces. Brown, white, brown, white, all the way down the line. Suddenly, a vivid orange flecked with yellow disrupts the sedate pattern. That, dear friends, was me, the only little classmate to order her (and her father's) favourite flavour, orange pineapple.

My dad used to take us to Home Dairy once in a while, and they had terrific ice cream, homemade and scooped generously. They had lots of flavours, and a neat art deco building. There was no indoor seating because they were primarily a processing plant, but their ice cream business did well. I can also remember a couple of times when my scoop fell right off immediately upon my first lick. After that, he used to take the first lick of my scoop himself and press his tongue down hard on top of the scoop to make sure it was set well into the cone. I watched and learned, soon doing that myself whenever I got a cone of hard scooped ice cream.

My taste in ice cream has changed many times over the years, and I doubt that I'd like orange pineapple very much now. I used to like mint chocolate chip ice cream, too, but now even the thought of it makes me shudder. Same with caramel in or on ice cream. For some reason, I am anti-caramel. Maybe it's a case of being ill shortly after having it and having a bad association. I don't know.

For a long time I was a huge fan of Ben & Jerry's ice creams and their sinful chunkiness. Those are ice creams you actually chew. There's a lot of extras in there! Now, I just see it as Too Much. I want ice cream, not a bunch of other stuff mucking about in there. 

Perhaps I am an Ice Cream Purist. I'd rather pay more for good, smooth ice cream in small containers and feel the richness of all that butterfat. I don't eat ice cream all that often, so I don't feel too guilty when I do. I like Haagen Dazs very much, but they don't have my all-time favourite flavour, chocolate marshmallow. For that, I have to slum a little and buy Turkey Hill, a very good brand despite not being a premium ice cream. Haagen Dazs does have an addictive chocolate peanut butter flavour that makes me forget myself and chocolate marshmallow, however; I've been known to eat the whole pint once or twice. Not recommended. Especially before bed.

The little ice cream and pizza place on the way to the lakehouse has very good soft-serve ice cream. (And chocolate is back! as of Memorial Weekend.) Unlike Dairy Queen's "ice cream," it does not make me double over with terrible gas cramps. The best soft-serve is still frozen custard, however, and if you've never had it, you're missing something wonderful. 

When I was little, I was also enamored of sherbet, which is not, of course, ice cream. I think I loved it mostly because of its lovely colours, then because it tasted so fruity. I still love fruity sorbets, especially mango and lemon. So refreshing! (And yes, it drives me nuts when people pronounce it SHER-BERT, tossing an extra R in there for no apparent reason.)

Do you have a specific childhood memory of Ice cream? What is your favourite flavour?

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All About Me(me): The Spring Fever Edition

 

NEO is enjoying some very Un-Marchlike weather, and I'm revelling in Early Spring. Each day of my walk brings new Joys:  tufts of bright purple and yellow crocuses; clutches of sturdy golden mini daffodils; a sudden burst of a flowering tree; lawns transform into emerald carpets; brilliant blue skies highlight the red, burgeoning buds of the silver maple trees that line the streets of the neighborhood. I am impatient for my patio and porch furniture, even though I know the odds are stacked against me; we are likely still to get snow in April or even May.

All of this is to say that I am outdoors and not indoors, and not given to much discipline as far as writing here. So, I'm taking advantage of a series of questions (I'll customize them a bit) that appeared over at Ally's place not too long ago. It's Old School Blogging, and it's easy fun. Here we go.

1.  What's something you're looking forward to doing once you get your vaccine or things open up after the pandemic is over?

I'm vaxxed and hit my efficacy date. I'm still leery of going out to dinner, but we're looking forward to going to our favourite restaurant and plan to do it more often. We miss it! I'm really looking forward to not having to mask all the time, mainly because it irritates me when people wear them incorrectly and stresses me out.

2.  What simple thing made you happy recently?

Oh, so many! I am easily made happy, really. My parsley wintered over and is ready for cutting. Likewise, my chives. And so did my celery, which I started from the bottom of a grocery store bunch!

3.  What was your favourite subject and worst subject in school?

Advanced Writing and all math. 

4.  Which of your blogposts is your favourite?

This is impossible because my posts are like my children. But I will give you a few from my Archives that I love:  Personal Jesus, Flamingos: They Don't Teach You This In Teachers' College, Watching And Thinking Of Blueberries. The last one is the first of what became a five-part series. I love how the series developed, and I hope you read all five parts. Just search the title in my blog's little search box.

5.  Coffee or Tea? Beer or Wine? Hard stuff?

Decaf coffee (half and half and real sugar), but some mornings I drink tea. The tea is herbal only, and cannot be lemon. Hot tea with lemon was the drink I was given when I was sick, which was all the time when I was little, so I associate that with illness. I cannot drink beer, nor abide its smell. I drink both red and white wine--also rosé. I don't drink spirits much anymore, but sometimes a martini is a necessity--up, slightly dirty, bleu cheese olives. 

6.  What movie, if you happen upon it while channel surfing, will you always stop and watch?

The Birdcage, Napoleon Dynamite, Caddyshack.

7.  When shoe shopping, what's your biggest problem?

My left foot is almost an entire half-size smaller than my right.

8.  Ice cream cone or cupcake?

This is a no-brainer for me. I hate cupcakes. They are almost always dry and they are almost always a disappointment. The flavour might say "peach daquiri," but it will taste nothing at all like that. I will take the ice cream cone every time. Unless it is mint chocolate chip, then forget it. I'll go find a place to buy peanut M&Ms.

9.  What have you learned about yourself during this pandemic?

That I'm calmer and less prone to panic than I thought I was. That I can adapt and roll with things better than I imagined. And that I'm daily grateful that I am retired and not trying to teach during this time. Bless the teachers; I think of them every single day.

10.  Does your family think you're the eccentric one?

Oh, I'm sure they do about some things. I know they think I'm the curmudgeon because I don't participate fully in every single family function. That stuff wears me out. I just made up my mind a long time ago that, in some cases, like kid parties, I'm simply Not Doing That Stuff. I also do not eat meals outdoors, or go camping, or care to know all the extended relationships in the family intimately, which also makes me sort of the Oddity. I'm generally okay with that.

That wraps it up. I look forward to your Comments, as usual. And I hope Spring has found your neighborhood, too. 

What's Your Sign? I'm Taurus, So I'm Loyal, Emotionally Strong, And Into Decluttering Kitchen Items. And Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream? (Heck No)

Sometimes, the Interwebs can bring us things we didn't even know we were looking for. I love when that happens. Even better is when I have No Idea how I got to where I arrived, having completely lost the thread of Where I Was Going in the first place.

This particular twisty-turny journey led me to an entire search page of zodiac signs. Let me say here and now that I do, in fact, read the Horoscopes every single day. I read mine, Rick's, and my sons'.  It benefits me in no way whatsoever except to occasionally laugh when it says things like "Tonight:  out on the town" or "exotic travel is favored". Oh, and once, a friend who dabbled in Astrology produced a chart for both Rick and me. There. Full disclosure.

But I digress.

This search page was fascinating. I had no idea that Astrology had branched out so far. It has moved into so many realms. As a Taurus, I was used to hearing about things like Tauruses are loyal, emotionally strong, independent, creative, practical. Our weak health is usually concentrated in our necks/throats. But all that stuff is Old School now. For example, did you know that your zodiac sign can also determine what you should De-Clutter?

bhg.com

Point taken. I promise to get right on that. And Rick, a Leo, does need to weed out the wardrobe. I keep telling him that. To be fair, he also hoards old receipts. 

Your birthdate also rules your ice cream preferences, supposedly. 

addiebusola.com

This is wrong, wrong, wrong. I detest mint chocolate chip, and Rick would not eat birthday cake ice cream. Actually, what the hell is going on with some of these flavours anyway? I advise everyone not to eat or drink blue stuff. You just never know.

Let's see how we fare with something else that's sweet.

tasteofhome.com

Yes! Out of all these candies, I would always pick Reese's (NOT Ree-sees; please pronounce it correctly. It rhymes with Pieces.) Peanut Butter Cups. Rick, however, would not ever pick Skittles. And Jared, who is NOT a Gemini, loves Swedish Fish. I know; I don't get it either.

Our zodiac signs also drive our footwear decisions. Take a look.

yahoo.com

Nope. Nude pumps? Not when there are patterned kitten heels or pointy-toe flats available. Now if they were red pumps, that would be perfect. I've owned dozens and dozens of heels in my life, and not one single pair was nude. For the record, Rick has no ankle-bow heels. 

Hey, if you're ever wondering what sort of book to pick up next, just consult your astrological sign. 

epicreads.com

This looks a little YA to me, but I used to read a lot of Stephen King, so it's pretty accurate there. I don't read much of any of these genres, except Historical. I like history, nonfiction, and some of what I guess would be called historical fiction. Rick has no interest in reading books, especially not fantasy. I would love to hear from all of you Aquarians who love to read Steampunk. I really would.

Finally, after all we've been through (and are going through), here's an astrological chart I like a great deal. See what else your birthdate can determine?

themindsjournal.com

I have no problem being designated as Hulk. My temper is mellowed quite a bit, but if you provoke me enough, I will, as my sons say, "put you on blast." I do not, however, turn even a little bit green. Rick is Superman, without a doubt. 

Had you any idea of the New Age Of Astrology and its incredible influence over our lives? How accurate were these new categories for you? Tell me who you are, according to the stars.

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November Challenge Post #23: My Favourite Childhood Books

I learned to read at a very young age. Once I started reading, I couldn't ever stop. Back in 1964 it wasn't expected that kindergarteners would know how to read, and the most knowledge we were expected to have was a rudimentary identification of colours, a few numerals, and be able to recite perhaps our address and our parents' names. Miss Osborne was stunned that I was already reading children's books.

We had Little Golden Books in the house, and the one that I was enamored with was The Color Kittens by Margaret Wise Brown, of Goodnight Moon fame. (I never even heard of Goodnight Moon until I read it to my sister's kids aeons later, even though it predated The Color Kittens.) It's likely that I picked out the book myself at some point, being drawn not only to the kittens on the front, but the very colourful illustrations inside. I've always loved paints, crayons, and the names of colours. This is the edition that I had as a very little girl, I think. My book is long gone.

This page of this book especially was my favourite.

All of the pages were about a colour and what it felt like or what things were that colour. It was so creative and imaginative.

When I was older, probably about seven or eight, I was going to the library once a week with my mom and my sister. I was allowed to take out eight books. I started reading the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Not all of them were always available, so I read them out of order, and some of them I read several times. I loved those books so much! These look pretty close to a couple of the ones I read from my little tiny town library, but most were recovered in plain hardcover library binding. They got a lot of wear.

When I was about ten or eleven, my brother was selected to go to a special summer program at Oberlin College, which was about twenty-five minutes away from our home. He was given some books to read, and he shared them with me. One was To Kill a Mockingbird, the edition below.

I obviously didn't have the depth or maturity to fully appreciate or understand this book at such a young age, but I loved it. I felt especially drawn to Jem, and I was so impressed by Atticus. I borrowed this book from my brother's bookshelf many times. As so many of you know, it became my favourite book of all time, and I was lucky enough to teach it dozens of years during my career. Each time I assigned it to my students, I, too, read it again right along with them. It never stops being powerful for me.

One last book that I loved and that came into my life at a very critical time was this one.

When I was nine, I had emergency surgery for a burst appendix. It was quite serious, and I was in the hospital for a very long time. I missed my family, my home, and Easter, too. My godmother sent me a tower of presents, and among them was this book of colour poetry. I still have it to this day, and I used to use it in my Creative Writing II class. The poems it inspired from my students were profoundly original and beautiful. It's not unlike The Color Kittens, really. Just more sophisticated. The way these two books echo one another makes me smile and feel very...complete.

I'd love it if you'd share some favourite books from your childhood with all of us in Comments.

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color kittens 

TKAM 

Little House

November Challenge Post #20: My Favourite Foods

 

These days, I have a Love/Hate relationship with Food. I'm sure so many of you do, too. It's become almost a Herculean task to plan dinner.  How on earth am I supposed to figure out in the morning what I'll feel like eating later in the day? Most often, by the time dinner does roll around, I've spent so much time preparing it and smelling it, the last thing I feel like doing is eating it. Or, it's something I never wanted to make in the first place, but oh well! it's all I could think of at the time. 

"Here!" I wish a magical someone would say. "I've brought you a dinner you love. And I'll be doing that for the forseeable future. You're welcome!"

I dream a dream. Sigh.

In the meantime, until that happens, here's a big list--in purely random, scattershot order, of some of 

My Favourite Foods

1. Raw oysters

2. Seafood

3. Toast

4. Butter

5. Walkers Shortbread

6. Avocado

7. Pork belly

8. Lemon pie/lemon bars

9. Mango

10. Naan

11. Liver and onions

12. Lima beans

13. Haagen-Dazs Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream

14. Duck

15. Tomatoes

Here's the thing:  I do like food. All of these things, I enjoy very much. I could eat any one of them right now, and it occurs to me that I haven't had lunch today. I could also make dinner out of any one of them easily. Actually, I have made dinner out of a good many of them, but let's not get specific.

(For the record, I'm not just talking about the ice cream. Or pie.)

Anyway, I'm still not entirely sure about tonight's dinner yet, and since I missed lunch entirely, I probably should grab an apple or something. Meanwhile, why not tell me a few of your favourite foods? Will we be having a tug-of-war over any?

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November Challenge Post #13: If I Won The Lottery

So, how much are we talking? Did I win the Classic Lotto, which is $5.5 million, with a cash option value of $2.8 million? Or did I hit it a little bigger, and win on the Lucky For Life, and take the cash option value of $5.8 million? OR did my numbers come up on the Mega Millions Multiplier, with a cash option value of $124.6 million?

Holy crap! DID I FOR REAL WIN THE POWERBALL POWERPLAY AND TAKE THE $131.5 MILLION CASH OPTION VALUE?!

I feel like there's way too many lottery options. I don't even play the lottery, but I definitely feel like I deserve to win.

Let's say that I win a really big jackpot. Here's what I'd do

If I Won The Lottery

1. Call my financial advisor and listen to his subsequent advice for investment

2. Tell Rick and absolutely no one else

3. Arrange for Rick to quit working immediately

4. Pay off our debts

5. Arrange wonderful private care for my mother in her own home

6. Give money to my children for their debt

7. Start planning a lengthy trip

8. Start researching local non-profits whose mission I believe in that would make the most of my donation

9. Indulge in the luxury of a housecleaning service

10. Buy a new boat

This is just a starter list. I would win such huge, enormous, abundant money and invest it so wisely that I'd be able to do all kinds of stuff. The mind boggles. 

Wouldn't that be something? It's a fun dream, but that's all it is. What are a few things you'd do with all your newfound cash?

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November Challenge Post #10--A Few Of My Favourite Things

 A subject like this can be easy to write about or it can be a nightmare. I'm choosing not to take it too terribly seriously or overthink this. I have a long list of things that are my Favourites in categories that range from shampoo (Pantene Sheer Volume) to shortbread (Walkers), from books (To Kill a Mockingbird) to basketball players (Patrick Ewing forever). Showing you just a few is relatively easy. I'll just pick out the ones that I use most often in a normal Nance Day. 

Here then, in no particular order, are 

A Few Of My Favourite Things

1. My Sisters Comforter:  I call it this because my grandmother and both of her sisters (Ethel, Grace, and Bertha) worked on piecing and sewing this at the Senior Citizens' Center when they were all still alive. It's not hand-sewn, and I think its colours are hideous, but I love it. My parents got it for me when I went away to college in 1979, and at one point, I had put it away. But I remembered my grandma saying how silly it was that people didn't use things like antique mason jars even when they were still serviceable. I knew she'd want me to use that comforter rather than simply store it. I use it every single night, even in summertime, cuddling under it on the couch, watching TV, usually with a cat or two curled up on it with me. It's backed with flannel, which makes it even cozier. It's coming apart now and fraying, so I'll need to find a way to get it fixed.

2. Generic Volumizing Root Lifter:  I usually try to get this stuff at Sally Beauty when it goes on sale for 4 bottles for $20. It's like magic. I spray it at the roots of my slightly-damp hair, then blow dry. I don't have to do anything else, and I like that. I'm way past the days of wanting to futz around with my hair. And my once-thick tresses are sadly Not That anymore. This really helps me look nice without a lot of bother.

3. California Olive Ranch Extra Virgin Everyday Olive Oil:  This stuff is my go-to olive oil, and for the longest time, it was hard to find. They came out with a Destination label, which blended in internationally-sourced oils, and I didn't care for it as much. But my warehouse club had a big stock of the all-California oil, and I got several at a very good price. I really like this oil.

Looks like I'm all done here! You know what to do in Comments, and how I love our Chats.

Fifth In The November Series: Fears

Before I get to today's November Challenge Topic, allow me to address the Commenting Challenge Topic:  Disappearing Comments. Some of you have experienced your comments flashing away suddenly as you are typing them. This is happening because of the slow loading of my sidebar elements. If you wait until my page completely loads and then begin typing your comment, everything will be fine. I have no idea why the sidebar is so poky; I've stripped away all that I can. Thanks for your patience. You all know how I value your Comments.

Now, on to the subject at hand.

I know I've discussed my Fears before, so I won't belabour them by going into big long explanations. As I've aged, some have become more prevalent and others have receded. I do try not to dwell on any of them, really. Life, as they say, is too short. Here, then, in no particular order, are

My Fears 

1. Getting Alzheimer's Disease/Dementia

2. Becoming Poor

3. Falling Down Steps

4. Snakes

5. Rick Dying Before Me

With regard to #5, I am Rick's Care Manager, and I take extremely good care of him. He has even given up doughnuts for me, and I cook with very little salt for him (out of deference to his high blood pressure). He has sworn a solemn oath to outlive me, and I hold him to it. I also remind him every now and then so he doesn't forget and become tempted to take any chances or eat Krispy Kremes. I feel it's the least he can do since I've told him he can remarry or take up with trollops after I die.

Your turn. What are your fears? Do we share any?  

In Which A Pizza Becomes A Life Or Death Matter

We've been basking in Springlike temperatures here in NEO, and that has been one of my favourite Christmas gifts. Rick, still home recovering from his surgery, decided we should take a drive and check on things at the lakehouse. Because I'm like a big old dog, I was happy to jump in the car and go.

On our way there, we passed by the little soft-serve and pizza shack that serves as the sole restaurant for one of the tiny towns on our route. I always scan the sign out front which announces its specials.

Nance: Do you think the pumpkin pie flurry is still there?

Rick: Probably. One thing we do know is that Chocolate is gone 'til at least June.

Nance: I still don't get that. Why do they assume no one wants chocolate ice cream in the winter?

Rick: Who knows?

Nance: (reading from the sign) TRY OUR NEW PICKLE AND BACON PIZZA! Wow. Pickle and bacon.

Rick: Ugh. I wonder who comes up with that stuff.

Nance: Well, whoever it is, I commend them for their bold innovation.

Rick: Yeah? Well I condemn them.

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And They Said It Wouldn't Last--The Dept. Of Nance Is Fourteen!

It was with some Wonder and Astonishment that I realized the Dept. of Nance is Fourteen this August 2019. This will be my 795th post here, and I have to admit that I haven't an inkling as to what I'm going to write. After fourteen years of this, I sometimes feel like all the Good Stuff has been taken, you know? I've written about so many things--The Politics, two sets of cats (and their maddening hair), my teaching days, my long-suffering husband Rick, my martini-drinking days, and my two sons who are now men--that I marvel at how I can find anything at all to write about anymore.

This blog was originally started to fend off any feelings of Hypocrisy. I was forever telling my Creative Writing students that writers write, period. They write as a matter of course. I wanted to practice what I preached, so I started this site and began writing, at first every day or every other day. Then I became gentler with myself, allowed myself more leeway. (The Universe, as you all know, makes other plans for us every now and then.) But through it all, I did keep writing here.

Blogging in general hit a peak for a time, and some bloggers got famous, got book deals, and some monetized their blogs--kind of like how YouTube is now, but on a smaller scale. It seemed like everyone was into SEO and Personal Branding and Hits and Niche Blogging and yada yada yada. I simply didn't want to get that worky; I already had my career. And once I retired, I didn't want another one. My blog was supposed to be my pleasure. (And, hopefully, part of someone else's.)

So, I still have an old fashioned blog where I unwind for a bit in the old style way: I write deliberately and at length about something I want to share with others; I hope it sparks some discussion; I respond to your comments directly so that it's a back-and-forth chat that includes everyone. I don't see it changing anytime soon.

Thanks to all of you who join me here. I do sincerely love having you. And, just in case I've left any stones unturned in fourteen years, here are

14 Random Things About Me

1. I like ketchup on macaroni and cheese.
2. I own seven pairs of prescription glasses (and two of prescription sunglasses).
3. I don't wear any jewelry, including my wedding band.
4. My favourite music will always be The Beatles.
5. I might like salsa if it were served warm.
6. Country music irritates the hell out of me.
7. I'm not eating guacamole often enough to suit me.
8. I don't get the allure of Twizzlers. Or Skittles.
9. I buy dog biscuits for other people's dogs.
10. I'm a firm believer in naming pets with people names.
11. Wearing peach or yellow makes my skin look green.
12. I think the acting in most old movies is horrendous.
13. I love taking the dumb quizzes on Buzzfeed.com.
14. If I lived on Pleasant Street and it wasn't pleasant, I'd start a petition drive to rename the street.

Again, thank you for reading. And for commenting. It's been a terrific Fourteen Years. Let's go for more! Share some thoughts and your own Random Things in Comments.

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Fruit For Thought

About a hundred years ago when I was in third grade, we used to get The Weekly Reader, a little kid newspaper that we read as a class. Each issue had a Central Idea, and it came jam-packed with all sorts of articles, activities, and corny jokes to keep eight year-olds occupied and enriched.

I don't remember the Central Idea of this particular issue, but I do remember a statement it made that bothered me so much it has stuck with me for lo these 52 years. The article posited that in the very near future, oranges would cease to exist and science would provide us with juice filled disks that tasted like oranges.

Again, I have no context for this dire (and obviously now false) prediction, but I recall feeling very upset and uncomfortable. I liked oranges, and they held a real familial connection for me. My grandparents wintered in Florida every year. If my parents went down, they would bring home oranges that they picked themselves. One of my grandpa's good friends, Jeptha, worked at an orange grove. What would he do? As was always my way back then, I didn't share that story or my worries with anyone. I sat with that concern myself for a long time, thinking and wondering and probably losing sleep over it. I probably stopped eating oranges for a long time, hoping it would help save them--stretch them out and make them last, maybe.

The good news is that my efforts worked! We still have oranges today, in spite of climate change and whatever threatens the citrus crops seemingly every year.

This got me thinking lately: what fruit, if it suddenly disappeared from the face of the Earth, would I generally Be Okay with? I'm not talking about fruits that I don't eat anyway, like dragonfruit and kumquats and durian. I'm talking about everyday fruits that I eat or cook with. Here's my list of

Three Fruits I'm Willing To See Disappear

1. Blueberries
2. Oranges
3. Watermelon

Obviously, I'm going to talk about this list.

1. Blueberries, however healthy they may be, simply do not do it for me. They taste like an old root cellar smells. And heaven forbid you get a mushy one--ugh. They're cute and readily available, but as far as I'm concerned, they can go anytime.

2. I. KNOW! I worried myself sick over Oranges leaving, and now I'm cavalierly bidding them farewell. But, honestly, I don't eat them all that often and I have never been an Orange Juice Drinker. How anyone can drink it in the morning is beyond me. Perhaps my Early Trauma waved me off Oranges so successfully that it ruined my enjoyment of them. Who knows?

3. I can just hear all of you wailing and gnashing your teeth over my banishment of this summertime crowd pleaser, but Watermelon bores me silly. It's also not worth all the effort, much like crab legs. It's a bitch to heft around, store, and butcher. It's messy as hell to eat. And unless you get a seedless one (and sacrifice flavour), you have the annoying seeds to contend with. Forget it. Good riddance.

What fruits are you willing to say sayonara to? And no fair using technicalities to offload your Tomato, Olive, or Cucumber bugaboo.

The Cheap Therapy Of Snow Shovelling

Many of us are locked in the latest Polar Vortex--or one of them, now that there are actually three daughter vortices--and the extreme cold and waves of snow are forcing us to stay indoors, avoiding much travel. I'm also playing Nurse to Rick, who had spinal surgery on 18 January. He's a Very Good Patient, but until he is allowed to bend, twist, lift, or basically do Normal Life Things again completely, I am pretty much Everything Person. (Assisted very ably now and again by Sam, who stops by and is On Call, should we need anything, like the Good Boy he is. Jared, who lives farther away, is the Backup.)

I just came in from finishing up the latest round of snow shovelling, which is my best source of real physical activity these days. I have to say that I am always surprised and gratified at just how much any outdoor exercise improves my overall mood and sense of wellbeing almost automatically.

And I especially do like shovelling snow, oddly enough, and this comes from a longtime Hater Of Winter. Maybe it's because it gives me power over two things I so dislike, Winter and Being Cold. These things often hold sway over me, both physically and emotionally. But when I go outside and shovel, it's like I'm bossing them around; I'm refusing to succumb to Winter and the Cold.

I also think a great deal of it is that I can see steady progress as I work. The shovel leaves clear swaths of driveway and sidewalk. It's obvious where I've been and how much I have yet to do. There's also a definite end, an absolute finish to the work. When the driveway and sidewalk are clear, I'm done!  I can put away my shovel and go in.  In my career as a teacher, that wasn't the case. Even when I was done teaching a particular novel or unit and gave the final test, I still had stragglers--kids who were absent and had to make up assignments, quizzes, projects, and tests. They had deadlines, hypothetically, but you'd be surprised at how much leeway there was, especially if parents got involved.  I was forever hauling out folders of answer keys, makeup versions of tests, moving backwards into my gradebook, trying always in vain to get everyone (for once) at the same starting/ending point. I even had kids trying to make stuff up after the final grades were in and the school year had ended! Trust me, even when the Fat Lady sang, it was never really over.

The rewards of snow shovelling are so tangible. A clear driveway, obviously; a job done; that feeling of accomplishment as I look down that stretch of clear concrete; stepping into the house and feeling the warmth envelop me and see it steam up my sunglasses; the satisfaction of shedding each layer of coat, mittens, headband, boots; and finally, sitting down with the contentment of a job well done and done all by myself.

I hate winter with a Passion, believe me. Actually, more accurately, I hate Snow with a passion. I could live with Winter were it not for Snow. I never find it pretty, ever. It's dangerous at its worst and an inconvenience at its best. But I try to make the best of it.

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The Greatest...Because I Say So

One day late last week I stepped out of the shower and I heard a fanfare of music; then a stentorian voice blared from the television in the bedroom. "Broadway's greatest musical is coming to Cleveland!" it announced. Immediately a list of contenders ran through my mind--none of which interested me, I might add, since I am not a fan of musicals--and I waited to hear the title, just out of Idle Curiosity. When the announcer finally did speak the name of The Musical, I was completely floored; there was not a single chance I'd have ever guessed it to be Broadway's Greatest, and I made up my mind to ask my mother, St. Patsy, Film And Musical Maven, her opinion.

So I did. I gave her the scenario and then gave her three guesses. Hers were stellar and completely plausible.

They were also, like all of mine, wrong.

I told her the answer, according to the commercial, and she was outraged. "Well, that's just ridiculous! Who said that's the greatest musical? I can only name one song from it!" And from there we both began naming all the other Better Musicals and the wonderful songs that came from them. Obviously, Broadway's Greatest Musical was NOT coming to Cleveland after all.

So, in the spirit of that dopey ad campaign that thought it could decide What Is The Greatest Of All, let's just declare what we think Is The Greatest in these random categories below. You don't have to explain your choices; just own them!

The Greatest...

1. Pasta Shape
Farfalle (Bowtie)

2. Vegetable
Asparagus

3. Ketchup
Heinz

4. Book
To Kill a Mockingbird

5. Band
The Beatles

6. Ice Cream
Häagen-Dazs Coffee

7. Actor
Daniel Day-Lewis

8. President
Abraham Lincoln

9. Poem
Tie: Annabel Lee and The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

10. Candy
Peanut MM's

There!  These things are The Greatest because I say so. Now you can say so, too, in Comments. (Oh, and the Greatest Broadway Musical, according to that ad campaign? Hello, Dolly. Yeah, I don't think so, either. )

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Free For All Friday: Some This 'N That Bric-A-Brac Gets Thrown Out (And It's Not Even Thursday)

Let's have a bit of This 'n That, which also happens to be the weather forecast for NEO. Please don't mistake that for A Complaint; I can look out and see grass in the Dept. front yard, and yesterday it was 58 degrees. Today, although it is a full twenty degrees colder, we are not anticipating sn*w, so...Good News.

Anyway.

Here's some Brain Bric-a-Brac I need to download (or is that upload?  I always goof that up):

1. Teacher Tuesday On Friday. I feel like the cumulative IQ of Our Nation is dropping precipitously, thanks to 45* and the moronic spew he emits as well as the elevation of the ninnies who elected him. Everywhere I look I see errors in...well, everything. Not too terribly long ago, I read this comment online: You really nailed it on the head! This individual obviously customized the well-known idiom You hit the nail on the head, which is already perfectly fine and makes more sense.

I also would like to clarify the meanings of the words in this group: pique, peak, peek, also found misused online. Here they are, used correctly in sentences.

The new cat toy didn't pique Webster's interest one bit.

It's not like Fabio is at the peak of his career.

I'm ready to give you a sneak peek at the new me.

2. A Discontinued Product Is Back! Way back in 2011, I lamented and cursed the demise of Reynolds Plastic Wrap. It was such a great product, mainly because its box had a slidey little cutter thing that made using the wrap so easy. Well, it's back! I wish I could take credit for its return after a seven-year hiatus, but I cannot. Instead, I will chortle in my joy and hope that some other Discontinued Products That I Miss will return as well (Oil of Olay facial bar soap, hear my plea).

3. Monday Meme On Friday: Quick Fact Rundown.
~*~My fantasy basketball record right now is 14-3; I have the second-best record in the league (and am the only woman).
~*~I watched Big Little Lies on HBO Now and was enthralled by the acting but stressed out by the stories. So good!
~*~I'm feeling so much better that I have been Primary Snow Shoveller here at the Dept.
~*~I started another knitting project and sorted stash yarn for yet another.
~*~I have Thrown Out Thursdayed even more stuff.  (And discovered moth damage in my yarn. Sigh.)

Check in, won't you, in Comments?

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Free For All Friday: A Little Throw It Out Thursday Gets Accomplished In This Thanksgiving/Dog Show Recap

Did you all have a pleasant Thanksgiving or Thursday or both? It was important to me that I take the day off from Something, so Writing was that Something. Truth be told, I also took the day off from Behaving Myself a little bit, and did quite a bit of Curse-Filled Pontificating And Narrating during the Dog Show. Once again, my most favourite dog in the universe, the Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever did NOT win, nor did it get any camera time beyond its speedy introduction as part of the Sporting Group. To add Insult to Injury, the Brussels Griffon won Best In Show, and I was completely outraged. Here, you tell me:

Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever

This dog did not win.

Ugly Brussels Griffon Icky Thing Dog

This one did.

I think my point is made.  I only hope the Canadians don't take it personally and stop making wine for me in Ontario.

This Thanksgiving taught me that, in addition to Throwing Out some pretty good Swear Words and Rants Against Lesser Dogs, I could also Throw Out the following:

1. Rolls
2. A second vegetable side dish

I fussed and fumed about not finding The Good Rolls this year, and went on a ridiculous 3-Store Hunt for them. After finally securing this coveted item and putting out said Good Rolls on the Thanksgiving Table, they were assiduously ignored and forgotten, left untouched to be put away, pristine and puffy, likely to be frozen for less festive meals in the future.  I also made the Executive Decision to serve only one vegetable--Jared's sauteed Brussels sprouts (the best thing from Brussels, ahem!) with onions and balsamic glaze--and it was more than enough.

So, to recap, here's What I Threw Out On Thanksgiving Thursday:
1.  Lots Of Indiscriminate Profanity Directed At Dog Breeds And Dog Show Judging
2.  Any Notion Of Ever Serving Rolls (Even The Good Kind) At Thanksgiving Dinner
3.  The Idea That A Second Vegetable Dish Was Necessary
Oh, and--
4.  All Pretense That I Can Make "A Lot Less" Stuffing

We were one less at the Dept. for dinner this year since Sam was vacationing in warmer climes.  I was determined to make A Lot Less Stuffing.  I still have NO IDEA why this did not happen.  I truly feel like I did not buy the same amount of ingredients I used to; I honestly feel that I mixed, chopped, sauteed, and seasoned way less.  YET, when I finished shaping the little balls of stuffing, I still had three pans full of them.  Each and every time I had to get out another pan, I was stunned and amazed.

I was not even drinking. No lie.

Speaking of drinking, we served two wines with dinner, an oaked Chardonnay and an unfiltered Pinot Noir, both lightly chilled.  And both Canadian. 


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