You know who you are, and you wouldn't appreciate it if I said your name; it'd just add to your hurt and your pain. I won't make you bleed in public.
I don't yet have the words to say it right.
But I have a gift for you, a little spiky and fragile, a song... This is one I enjoy for the the music, and the context
and connotations and the world I was living, the person I was when I
first heard it.
But also for the lyrics.
As the years go by, some songs from my childhood have become as
trite and awful as trying to recapture the magic of childhood cartoons,
or the first drunken time I saw Heavy Metal, or the wonder the first
time I saw anime - learning that such a new and very different art form existed.
But some? The lyrics grow in meaning as I've grown.
And this song, it was so easy on the ears as a dance floor respite when the entire world was
mine to explore, and the clubs brilliant and beautiful and I could dance
until they closed, then drink coffee and catch the well-after-midnight trains till we walked and laughed and ran
through the Loop, twirling in the silent streets, hands out for balance on the edges of the flower
planters, dancing on the benches, owning the silent downtown, the sleeping city. We swaggered and staggered and laughed until we were collapsing in the park, a happy group of friends as
the sun rose over the lake and the city came to life.
Now, though, years later, all too many funerals and memorial services, wakes, and search and rescues
turned into search and retrieval instead... I hear most prominently the
line half-hidden softly at the end, the advice that came too late.
Because as sugary and poppy as it sounds on the surface, at heart it's an an elegy,
written for a comrade already gone into the darkness.
Take it easy on yourself...
Please, when you're feeling overwhelmed and stressed, when the to-dos
seem overwhelming, when you're staring at up at the mountain of all you want to become, and to have done (but
barely started, and despair at succeeding), when you're staring down at the wreckage of your carefully
crafted life and plans...
Take it easy on yourself.
We'll be here for you.
I'll be waiting.
https://youtu.be/5UXnulANF8g
Monday, March 2, 2020
Monday, December 23, 2019
Braised lamb in dutch oven with couscous
Today's dinner was brought to us by Limerick farms - a by-Texas-standards-local sheep farm, who sold us a leg of lamb at the farmer's market some months ago. Peter's quite taken with their meat, because they actually mean lamb, not mutton, when they label it lamb.
Unfortunately, life got busy and said meat languished in the deep freezer. Today, I pulled it out, and decided I had the time, so we were going to have a nice dinner. It wasn't fully defrosted when I started: next time, following the same directions, it might end up falling off the bone tender. As it was, it was delicious and made for a very happy husband.
For a 4 lb leg of lamb, start at least 4 hours ahead of time.
1 defrosted 4 lb leg of lamb, bone-in
salt - 2 tsp?
pepper - 2 tsp?
2 Tbsp high-smoke-point oil/lard
1 bottle cab sauv or other dry red wine (less two glasses for the cook)
6 cloves garlic, minced or chopped
1 Tbsp oregano
1 Tbsp rosemary
1 Tbsp thyme
3/4 cup golden raisins
1 can tomato paste
1 can fire-roasted tomatoes
1 can diced tomatoes
1-2 onions, quartered
Thaw lamb. Pat dry, salt and pepper both sides.
Preheat oven to 350 F. Pour first glass for cook.
Heat dutch oven on med-high, with oil. Sear lamb 3 minutes each side, until dark brown.
Add the rest of the ingredients, save for the second glass of wine for the cook.Stir to make sure the bottom is deglazed, and let it come up to a boil.
Turn off stove, put lid on the dutch oven, and stick in stove.
3-4 hours later, turn off oven and make couscous.
Couscous
1 onion, diced
1 Tbsp ghee or butter
1 tsp tumeric
1 tsp chicken bullion powder
1 cup couscous
1 cup + a splash of boiling water
Saute diced onion & tumeric in ghee, until bright yellow and translucent. Add couscous and bullion powder, stir, and add water. Turn off burner, let sit five minutes. This is a good time to grab a pack of frozen steamable veg and turn it into the green side.
When the frozen veg is ready, the couscous will be too. Pull the dutch oven out of the oven, check the lamb, and serve lamb with the sauce around it on the couscous and veg.
Excellent meal; we'll definitely be tracking them down for more lamb, and making this again!
Unfortunately, life got busy and said meat languished in the deep freezer. Today, I pulled it out, and decided I had the time, so we were going to have a nice dinner. It wasn't fully defrosted when I started: next time, following the same directions, it might end up falling off the bone tender. As it was, it was delicious and made for a very happy husband.
For a 4 lb leg of lamb, start at least 4 hours ahead of time.
1 defrosted 4 lb leg of lamb, bone-in
salt - 2 tsp?
pepper - 2 tsp?
2 Tbsp high-smoke-point oil/lard
1 bottle cab sauv or other dry red wine (less two glasses for the cook)
6 cloves garlic, minced or chopped
1 Tbsp oregano
1 Tbsp rosemary
1 Tbsp thyme
3/4 cup golden raisins
1 can tomato paste
1 can fire-roasted tomatoes
1 can diced tomatoes
1-2 onions, quartered
Thaw lamb. Pat dry, salt and pepper both sides.
Preheat oven to 350 F. Pour first glass for cook.
Heat dutch oven on med-high, with oil. Sear lamb 3 minutes each side, until dark brown.
Add the rest of the ingredients, save for the second glass of wine for the cook.Stir to make sure the bottom is deglazed, and let it come up to a boil.
Turn off stove, put lid on the dutch oven, and stick in stove.
3-4 hours later, turn off oven and make couscous.
Couscous
1 onion, diced
1 Tbsp ghee or butter
1 tsp tumeric
1 tsp chicken bullion powder
1 cup couscous
1 cup + a splash of boiling water
Saute diced onion & tumeric in ghee, until bright yellow and translucent. Add couscous and bullion powder, stir, and add water. Turn off burner, let sit five minutes. This is a good time to grab a pack of frozen steamable veg and turn it into the green side.
When the frozen veg is ready, the couscous will be too. Pull the dutch oven out of the oven, check the lamb, and serve lamb with the sauce around it on the couscous and veg.
Excellent meal; we'll definitely be tracking them down for more lamb, and making this again!
Monday, October 28, 2019
Aircraft, Past and Present
So Darling Husband and I went to an airshow on the nearby air force base
last weekend. Walking up to the gates was an experience, because a Mig was doing aerobatics. My husband's face
when he saw a MIG-17 doing a low-level pass... his entire nervous system
looked like it was desperately crying out for a missile launcher, just
let me at 'em! Some reflexes die hard, eh?
After that, while my wonderful man sat and enjoyed the airshow, I went off to ogle all the static display airplanes. (They were fairly spread out, and he didn't feel inclined to all that walking.)
Sitting alone amongst the air force planes was a single Army Chinook, with a recruiting tent right next to it, sticking out like a sore thumb. And rocking it. Those guys were having a good time. (The other oddball was a C-47 in the corner, for the WWII paratrooper jump demonstration team.)
I walked up the load ramp of the Chinook, and had to stop and stare in amazement. It was clean. No, it was...*clean.* I don't think you understand the amount of cleanliness... the wiring bundles didn't have any grime between the wires, clean. Every hydraulic hose and line was clean, with no stains from any leaks, clean. And all the hydraulic lines were bent at the perfectly correct indexed angle, and everything was labeled. None of the nuts had traveled from their marked point. No field-expedient repairs. No evidence that there ever had been any...
It was... birds like this don't exist. This is the demo you use when making a textbook photo, that could not possibly survive the first trip out the factory door, clean.
In the back of the bird, a young army sort was hanging between the stretcher on one side, cheerfully enjoining the civvies on his bird to "ask me anything!" He caught me ogling his wiring bundles, and gave me a nod. I nodded back, and continued inspecting his junctions in sheer amazement. This was a bird in use - it wasn't factory new - and it was Just. Too. Pretty.
So as I walked past him, I felt I ought to say something, even if he looked like the youngest JROTC kid to pull public relations instead of getting to see the air show. On a couple air force birds just minutes earlier, I'd tried asking questions only to get a startled, "I don't know, ma'am, I'm still in training." So rather than ask what in the wide green world was going on with this bird, I went for complement instead.
So I say, "Your wiring is immaculate. The bundles, your hydraulics... your bird is beautiful. I haven't seen one this just... this lovely." He gets this grin, and the chest puffs out a little more, the ramrod straight spine gets a little straighter, and he says, "Thank you, ma'am! Let me know if you have *any* questions!" And by the gleam in his eye, this is not, as I thought, some poor training kid. I have made the old fart's mistake of underestimating this young man in both age and ability.
...Turns out he's the crew chief. Oops. (When did they start looking so young?) And thus ten minutes were pleasantly passed in discussing load configurations and capabilities, and confirming that his was indeed a working bird, and he was by G-d going to make sure it was the best working bird in the entire US Army, every single time, and everything was perfect. Even if it was a slingload of live goats in a crate.
Amazing.
After that, I visited the C-47 as well. And when I climbed up the narrow ladder and got inside, I saw bare primered walls decorated with photos and sharpie scrawls. Closer inspection proved that they restored the plane to as close to original paratrooper configuration as possible. (Although this airframe actually spent her war years flying the hump, and then in the Israeli Air Force, only reimported back in the 80's. If that bird could talk!)
And then, after restoration, every WWII paratrooper who managed to make it on board has been handed a sharpie and invited to leave his name, dates of service, and jumps. And some of those - the number of places they jumped were astounding. On some, they'd even managed to dig up old wartime photos, and stuck them up beside the signature. That bird... she was something special. Something more than she had been, as if her own record wasn't enough.
Yeah, from the young men who jumped out of planes like her over Reims to the young men making sure that the birds will be okay today... There's a lot of good out there that's easy to overlook. I'm glad we got to see it.
After that, while my wonderful man sat and enjoyed the airshow, I went off to ogle all the static display airplanes. (They were fairly spread out, and he didn't feel inclined to all that walking.)
Sitting alone amongst the air force planes was a single Army Chinook, with a recruiting tent right next to it, sticking out like a sore thumb. And rocking it. Those guys were having a good time. (The other oddball was a C-47 in the corner, for the WWII paratrooper jump demonstration team.)
I walked up the load ramp of the Chinook, and had to stop and stare in amazement. It was clean. No, it was...*clean.* I don't think you understand the amount of cleanliness... the wiring bundles didn't have any grime between the wires, clean. Every hydraulic hose and line was clean, with no stains from any leaks, clean. And all the hydraulic lines were bent at the perfectly correct indexed angle, and everything was labeled. None of the nuts had traveled from their marked point. No field-expedient repairs. No evidence that there ever had been any...
It was... birds like this don't exist. This is the demo you use when making a textbook photo, that could not possibly survive the first trip out the factory door, clean.
In the back of the bird, a young army sort was hanging between the stretcher on one side, cheerfully enjoining the civvies on his bird to "ask me anything!" He caught me ogling his wiring bundles, and gave me a nod. I nodded back, and continued inspecting his junctions in sheer amazement. This was a bird in use - it wasn't factory new - and it was Just. Too. Pretty.
So as I walked past him, I felt I ought to say something, even if he looked like the youngest JROTC kid to pull public relations instead of getting to see the air show. On a couple air force birds just minutes earlier, I'd tried asking questions only to get a startled, "I don't know, ma'am, I'm still in training." So rather than ask what in the wide green world was going on with this bird, I went for complement instead.
So I say, "Your wiring is immaculate. The bundles, your hydraulics... your bird is beautiful. I haven't seen one this just... this lovely." He gets this grin, and the chest puffs out a little more, the ramrod straight spine gets a little straighter, and he says, "Thank you, ma'am! Let me know if you have *any* questions!" And by the gleam in his eye, this is not, as I thought, some poor training kid. I have made the old fart's mistake of underestimating this young man in both age and ability.
...Turns out he's the crew chief. Oops. (When did they start looking so young?) And thus ten minutes were pleasantly passed in discussing load configurations and capabilities, and confirming that his was indeed a working bird, and he was by G-d going to make sure it was the best working bird in the entire US Army, every single time, and everything was perfect. Even if it was a slingload of live goats in a crate.
Amazing.
After that, I visited the C-47 as well. And when I climbed up the narrow ladder and got inside, I saw bare primered walls decorated with photos and sharpie scrawls. Closer inspection proved that they restored the plane to as close to original paratrooper configuration as possible. (Although this airframe actually spent her war years flying the hump, and then in the Israeli Air Force, only reimported back in the 80's. If that bird could talk!)
And then, after restoration, every WWII paratrooper who managed to make it on board has been handed a sharpie and invited to leave his name, dates of service, and jumps. And some of those - the number of places they jumped were astounding. On some, they'd even managed to dig up old wartime photos, and stuck them up beside the signature. That bird... she was something special. Something more than she had been, as if her own record wasn't enough.
Yeah, from the young men who jumped out of planes like her over Reims to the young men making sure that the birds will be okay today... There's a lot of good out there that's easy to overlook. I'm glad we got to see it.
Friday, September 20, 2019
What's healthy feel like?
Last winter, I had a couple-few very bad months, in which I couldn't actually tell how bad my health was getting, because judgement is one of the first things that gets affected when your brain isn't working right.
I could tell that the writing was getting slower, worse, more fitful, and stuttering - and I could tell that I was skating on the event horizon of an emotional black hole, and spending a fair amount of time and energy staying out of that. And then the writing shut down.
And then I couldn't even manage to coherently blurb other people's work.
And then I couldn't even think my way through critiquing and editing other people's blurbs.
Yeah, hypoxia from asthma and general issues with lots of allergens is very like being drunk: have one drink, and you're questioning if you're okay or should wait longer. Meanwhile, the guy who can't get off the couch is the one who thinks they're fine to drive, because when they asked themselves if anything's wrong, the brain just couldn't even answer.
Just as my darling husband is finding out that recovery from injury at sixty-plus is a whole lot slower than when he was 20, I'm finding... recovery from "It's not that bad" is closing in on a year from when the problems became unignorable, and while I keep thinking "I'm good now!", I keep finding the body and brain are slowly getting better and better, and reaching levels of good I didn't know I'd lost.
This makes me more paranoid about getting back in the air, not less - because my lovely old plane is a wonderful dear, sweet and gentle for her kind... which, being as she's 70+ years old, means she's a heck of a handful if you're not on your game and on top of all her quirks and the vagaries of wind and weather.
On the other hand, I did just manage to write my first blurb from scratch in... I don't want to think how long. And the stories are coming back, in fits and starts. And I just got to Amarillo and was able to walk around the fair until the little muscles in my hips yelled at me (I'd squatted 120 pounds the day before. They were irritated with all the walking on asphalt and concrete), without having tightness in my chest and the exhaustion from pushing my lungs to move enough air being the limiting factor.
Here's to life getting better! I'm not sure I'll know when I've reached healthy, but I'll keep trying for it. And I'll be getting back in the air when I get there!
I could tell that the writing was getting slower, worse, more fitful, and stuttering - and I could tell that I was skating on the event horizon of an emotional black hole, and spending a fair amount of time and energy staying out of that. And then the writing shut down.
And then I couldn't even manage to coherently blurb other people's work.
And then I couldn't even think my way through critiquing and editing other people's blurbs.
Yeah, hypoxia from asthma and general issues with lots of allergens is very like being drunk: have one drink, and you're questioning if you're okay or should wait longer. Meanwhile, the guy who can't get off the couch is the one who thinks they're fine to drive, because when they asked themselves if anything's wrong, the brain just couldn't even answer.
Just as my darling husband is finding out that recovery from injury at sixty-plus is a whole lot slower than when he was 20, I'm finding... recovery from "It's not that bad" is closing in on a year from when the problems became unignorable, and while I keep thinking "I'm good now!", I keep finding the body and brain are slowly getting better and better, and reaching levels of good I didn't know I'd lost.
This makes me more paranoid about getting back in the air, not less - because my lovely old plane is a wonderful dear, sweet and gentle for her kind... which, being as she's 70+ years old, means she's a heck of a handful if you're not on your game and on top of all her quirks and the vagaries of wind and weather.
On the other hand, I did just manage to write my first blurb from scratch in... I don't want to think how long. And the stories are coming back, in fits and starts. And I just got to Amarillo and was able to walk around the fair until the little muscles in my hips yelled at me (I'd squatted 120 pounds the day before. They were irritated with all the walking on asphalt and concrete), without having tightness in my chest and the exhaustion from pushing my lungs to move enough air being the limiting factor.
Here's to life getting better! I'm not sure I'll know when I've reached healthy, but I'll keep trying for it. And I'll be getting back in the air when I get there!
Monday, September 2, 2019
Raspberry and pear trifle
My darling husband volunteered to make a trifle for group dinner, but he was having a day where just standing was a challenge. So I made a trifle. Well, two, really, because it's only a tiny bit more work to make two trifles than one, and plenty of guests.
For the cake:
1 boxed devil food cake mix
1/3 cup oil (I used coconut & light olive)
1 cup water
2 eggs
1 Tbsp cocoa powder
For the custard:
2 Tablespoons Bird's Custard Powder
3 cups milk
1/2 tsp powdered ginger
1/8 tsp nutmeg
2 Tbsp raspberry jelly
1-2 cups frozen raspberries
For the fruit:
4 cans of sliced pears, drained
For the cream:
1 quart whipping cream
2 Tbsp vanilla extract
2 tsp fine sugar
First, make the cake according to box mix directions. (Although I threw in an extra tablespoon of cocoa powder, because it didn't seem very chocolately to me.) This makes enough for two trifles.
While the cake is baking, mix the custard powder and jelly in a large microwaveable bowl. Add the milk and spices, stir well until no clumps. Microwave for 6 minutes, stopping at least halfway to pull it out and stir it. Cool it down by dumping the frozen raspberries in, and stirring well. Let sit.
When the cake has cooled, cut it into chunks about 1/2" to 1" square. Divide in 4 parts.
Layer the trifle dishes with the cake, drizzle 1/4 of the custard on top, and put one can of pears as a layer. They don't have to be anywhere close to drained dry, just not sopping and soaking the cake.
Put half the cream ingredients in a bowl, whip it up, and spread half on each trifle. Repeat cake, pudding, pears, make a second batch of cream, and put that on top.
Cover and store in fridge until time to be eaten.
For the cake:
1 boxed devil food cake mix
1/3 cup oil (I used coconut & light olive)
1 cup water
2 eggs
1 Tbsp cocoa powder
For the custard:
2 Tablespoons Bird's Custard Powder
3 cups milk
1/2 tsp powdered ginger
1/8 tsp nutmeg
2 Tbsp raspberry jelly
1-2 cups frozen raspberries
For the fruit:
4 cans of sliced pears, drained
For the cream:
1 quart whipping cream
2 Tbsp vanilla extract
2 tsp fine sugar
First, make the cake according to box mix directions. (Although I threw in an extra tablespoon of cocoa powder, because it didn't seem very chocolately to me.) This makes enough for two trifles.
While the cake is baking, mix the custard powder and jelly in a large microwaveable bowl. Add the milk and spices, stir well until no clumps. Microwave for 6 minutes, stopping at least halfway to pull it out and stir it. Cool it down by dumping the frozen raspberries in, and stirring well. Let sit.
When the cake has cooled, cut it into chunks about 1/2" to 1" square. Divide in 4 parts.
Layer the trifle dishes with the cake, drizzle 1/4 of the custard on top, and put one can of pears as a layer. They don't have to be anywhere close to drained dry, just not sopping and soaking the cake.
Put half the cream ingredients in a bowl, whip it up, and spread half on each trifle. Repeat cake, pudding, pears, make a second batch of cream, and put that on top.
Cover and store in fridge until time to be eaten.
Sunday, August 11, 2019
Honey Basalmic Cod with Mandarin Oranges
The first time I saw this recipe, I thought "Eww, sickly sweet." The second time, I thought "How do they make that tasty?" And five years or so later, I've tried it, with a few additions, and my husband liked it so much he wants me to make it for group dinner (for 12) instead of just the two of us. If I do that, I'll need to figure out how to scale things up. We'll see.
Honey Basalmic Cod with Mandarin Oranges
4-5 filets of cod, frozen
1 can mandarin oranges
1 orange's worth of juice
1 Tbsp orange marmalade
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp white pepper
1/2 tsp mustard powder
1 Tbsp honey
2 Tbsp melted butter or very light oil + extra to grease the baking sheet
1-2 Tbsp thick balsamic vinegar
+1 pack steamable butternut squash noodles
+1 pack steamable baby brussels sprouts
Preheat oven to 400 degrees, and line baking sheet with either a silicone baking mat or greased aluminum foil, so cod doesn't stick to it. Place cod on sheet.
If you have an orange, juice it.
In a bowl, mix all ingredients except cod, mandarin sections, and steamables packs, until blended. Spoon over frozen cod. Put in oven and bake for 22-25 minutes.
About 16 minutes out from done, stick butternut noodles pack in microwave. While it's cooking, open mandarin can. Rinse and drain 3 times to get the canned taste out, set aside.
When noodles finished, carefully remove package. Put in brussels sprouts pack and nuke.
Drain butternut noodles, add drained orange sections on top, reseal packet (if able).
When Brussels sprouts are done, plate the noodles & oranges, then open the sprouts and plate them, too. Fish will be done at this point, and you can carefully pull it out of the oven. Put cod chunks on noodles, spoon the sauce in the pan over the noodles.
Serve with a drizzle of balsamic over the Brussels sprouts, and it's ready to table. Serves 2-3
Honey Basalmic Cod with Mandarin Oranges
4-5 filets of cod, frozen
1 can mandarin oranges
1 orange's worth of juice
1 Tbsp orange marmalade
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp white pepper
1/2 tsp mustard powder
1 Tbsp honey
2 Tbsp melted butter or very light oil + extra to grease the baking sheet
1-2 Tbsp thick balsamic vinegar
+1 pack steamable butternut squash noodles
+1 pack steamable baby brussels sprouts
Preheat oven to 400 degrees, and line baking sheet with either a silicone baking mat or greased aluminum foil, so cod doesn't stick to it. Place cod on sheet.
If you have an orange, juice it.
In a bowl, mix all ingredients except cod, mandarin sections, and steamables packs, until blended. Spoon over frozen cod. Put in oven and bake for 22-25 minutes.
About 16 minutes out from done, stick butternut noodles pack in microwave. While it's cooking, open mandarin can. Rinse and drain 3 times to get the canned taste out, set aside.
When noodles finished, carefully remove package. Put in brussels sprouts pack and nuke.
Drain butternut noodles, add drained orange sections on top, reseal packet (if able).
When Brussels sprouts are done, plate the noodles & oranges, then open the sprouts and plate them, too. Fish will be done at this point, and you can carefully pull it out of the oven. Put cod chunks on noodles, spoon the sauce in the pan over the noodles.
Serve with a drizzle of balsamic over the Brussels sprouts, and it's ready to table. Serves 2-3
Saturday, August 3, 2019
Research or Writing, pick one...
So it begins: I have a good chunk of outline, a couple characters sketches, some research, and I'm just going to write this small section of the story in order to help figure out the plot. Right? No dstractions, just writing!
...close the browser...
Less than three hundred words later, "1911's come in single stack, right? I'm not crazy?"
*open browser, lose an hour to the siren song of online*
Close browser. Now I'm going to write!
Two paragraphs later "Is there any steel-core pistol caliber ammo?"
..lose ten minutes to searching...
No! I'll just ask the subject matter expert in the house!
"Love? Are there any steel-content bullets out there in pistol calibers? Is it feasible for them to be produced if you're prioritizing defennse rounds against fae?"
Mind you, asking my husband for help has temptations and distractions all its own...
...close the browser...
Less than three hundred words later, "1911's come in single stack, right? I'm not crazy?"
*open browser, lose an hour to the siren song of online*
Close browser. Now I'm going to write!
Two paragraphs later "Is there any steel-core pistol caliber ammo?"
..lose ten minutes to searching...
No! I'll just ask the subject matter expert in the house!
"Love? Are there any steel-content bullets out there in pistol calibers? Is it feasible for them to be produced if you're prioritizing defennse rounds against fae?"
Mind you, asking my husband for help has temptations and distractions all its own...
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