Seems my post below about feeding Big Daddy at Lake Concordia has brought the watchband vendors up top. Good for the change. Come back.
I seldom wear a watch unless I am traveling. I have owned a Hamilton, a Timex, and two Seikos in the past 20 years. I have lost them all. They all fell off my wrist without my noticing. Two of them were given to me by gentleman friends -- the Hamilton and one Seiko. Time was up, I suppose.
Now I wear $9 watches from Walgreen's or Fred's.
I am going to use profanity in a post. What the hell are editors thinking? I hate these titles. "My Life" for a presidential memoir. His wife's was "Living History". Lucy could have written those books.
UPDATE: Of course, the publishers know that these books will sell on the authors' names. They could have been titled "c" and "v" for all the difference that will make in sales.
Here is a New York Times review of President Clinton's memoir.
Lyman says, "950 pages of Bill Clinton? That would be a good criminal sentence."
I don't hate Bill Clinton, but I do hate sloppy writing. Except my own, of course.
UPDATE: In another NYT review, Larry McMurtry likes it.
The celebration at Lyman's brother's house was as good as could be. He has built a pier that extends onto the lake with a covered 30' by 30' platform. There are requisite ceiling fans and lights, and a cooking center with a small refrigerator -- the best party room you can imagine. Four huge floor fans blew away the heat.
All 12 of us were in good humor and the food was delicious. The ice cream drew raves. I was honest. I followed the recipe for old-fashioned vanilla from the book that came with the Rival electric freezer. Our kids are all too old to sit on a crank model. Besides, they weren't invited.
Happy Father's Day to you, too.
Today I shall make a gallon of vanilla ice cream to take to Lake Concordia.
Lyman's brother lives on the lake. He and his wife have invited us and Lyman's sister and her husband to a fish fry to celebrate Father's Day.
My father died on July 8, 1990. Lyman's father turned 85 on May 30 of this year.
Poor brother. When my sister-in-law called to invite us, she set suppertime at 5:30 or later, when the weather cools down. When my father-in-law stopped in for a barbecued rib yesterday evening, he said "Lyman, you need to help Brent cook the fish." "What time do I need to be there?" "Oh, we'll eat about 4 or 4:30."
So much good food. So little time.
UPDATE: Big Daddy just stopped by. "Oh, I'm going to give Girl time to get dressed. We'll go to Brent's at about 2." Poor Brent.
I often read Jeff Jarvis. In this post he mentions "blogcards". Now, that's an idea that's overdue for the un-anonymous members of the Axis of Weevil.
Lyman installed Norton's Anti-Virus on this machine last night. Now I can't read Haloscan comments on other people's sites, though I can read them on my own. What to do?
Sugarmama, a worthy young man who loves you, and wants to marry you, has been sitting on an engagement ring wondering how best to give it to you. The girl is athletic, like you, and intelligent, like you, and young, like you. What would you want?
Glenda's son is in this place.
Lucy is just plain stubborn. She knows how to say "hello". She imitates the ring of the telephone and answers it "Harro?" Drives the boys crazy when they stay the night, thinking the phone is ringing.
Lyman is a top-notch Louisiana cook. I'd set his gumbo and red beans and rice against anyone's. No reason to be, but I was a little surprised at how scrumptious his lima beans and andouille turned out. There are no tricks to the recipe. Here it is:
LIMA BEANS with ANDOUILLE SAUSAGE2 lbs. large lima beans, washed
Water to cover, plus 2 inches
2 smoked hamhocks
6-7 fresh or 4-5 dried bay leaves
2-1/2 cups onion, minced in food processor
2 cups bell pepper, minced in fp
2 cups celery, minced in fp
Minced garlic, about 4 generous teaspoons
3 lbs. andouille sausage, cut in 1/4 inch slices
1 can diced original recipe Ro-tel tomatoes
Cajun seasoning
Sliced green onions (optional)
Place the beans, hamhocks and bay leaves in a large stockpot. Cover with water plus 2 inches. Bring to boil and reduce to simmer. Add minced vegetables, garlic and Ro-tel tomatoes. Simmer gently until beans are half done. Add sausage. Simmer until beans are done. Check seasoning. Add Cajun seasoning to taste. In this case, we used Tony Chachere's seasoning, adding just enough to salt the dish. Top with sliced or chopped green onions, if desired.
An afternoon at the Gore household is as likely to be like this as anything:
Big Daddy taps on the carport door and lets himself in. Janis is mopping the enclosed porch. Lyman is at the grocery store.
"Yoo-hoo. Is anybody home? Is anybody home?"
"Janis is home. Lucy is home."
"What's for supper? Am I too early or too late?"
"You're in luck. Lyman made lima beans with andouille sausage."
"Hey, Lucy. Will you say hello?"
Lucy won't talk.
"I'll get some of this later."
"There's plenty. Eat some now."
"Is that all right?""Yes, it's all right. Get a bowl."
"The juice in these beans is delicious. Lucy, can you say hello?"
Lucy doesn't talk.
Janis finishes the floor and the phone rings.
It's Girl. "Janis, is Travis there? I just got back after two hours at the dentist's. He didn't leave a note or anything."
"He's here. He is eating Lyman's beans with sausage."
"What is he doing eating there? I want him to take me somewhere to eat."
"Here, I'll let you talk to Travis."
"Come over here and have a bowl of beans. The juice is delicious."He hands me the phone. "She's coming."
If anyone questions why I have fallen so far behind in housekeeping, it's just that things haven't been the same since Martha was indicted.
Oh, shoot, why not admit it all?
If I have told about my neglected iron, and the Redneck Outfitters t-shirt, I might as well tell you how thrilled I was to run across a "3 for $10" deal at the Super 10 yesterday.
In the summer, I like to wear long, loose sleeveless shifts rather than shorts, unless I'm on my knees in the yard. They're cooler and less ... confining.
I drove up to the store in hopes of finding an inexpensive but decent frame to replace the one I knocked off the wall while I was working in the pantry. On a rack in front of the store, there they were, 3 shifts for $10. I bought every one in my size -- small, if you please -- which came to three. I am delighted!
It was a drive-by assault.
I was in our bedroom, assessing Montez's trouble in Elmore Leonard's Mr. Paradise. I heard the carport door open and a deep masculine voice say "Hey".
Lyman failed to tell me that Jason, our younger boy, had called last night to say that he would be coming in this afternoon, on his way home to Baton Rouge after seeing the artist formerly known as Prince in Shreveport last night. He was accompanied by a young woman, Neysha.
What happened to Nicole, you ask? I don't ask. Jason is 29. His private life is just that.
He poured himself a glass of milk and ice-water for Neysha, exchanged pleasantries for a while, then asked "What's heatable?" Before I had time to answer, he had brought chips out of the pantry and found cucumbers in vinegar, pico de gallo and and a sauce I couldn't identify from the refrigerator. "This is good. What is it?" "Hold off a minute while I think if it's safe. Ah, that's remoulade sauce. They serve it in New Orleans with shrimp." "It's good with chips."
Luckily there was some of the squash dish left from the other day, and Girl had sent some butterbeans yesterday. I cooked a little pasta. The kids ate both. Not a menu I would have chosen.
Neysha picked up the dishes and put them in the sink and returned uneaten food to the refrigerator.
They spent a few more minutes socializing while Lyman packed a cooler with catfish, pork loin, and chicken tenders from the freezer.They gave us hugs, and then were gone.
Hmmm, Mr. Schranck, that has possibilities. I think I'd prefer parmesan cheese, and pasta rather than rice.
What I dread most in my list of things to do is the trip to the laundromat. Funny thing is, I've only been once in this area, and it was no problem at all. I took a book, watched traffic, and talked to an older (older than 43) black woman who was washing just about everything because she'd been caring for a sick grandchild.
The memory that grates on me is from Lemmon Ave. in Dallas. That part of town was full of singles in apartments. I lived in a garage apartment a few blocks away. I tried to time washing for night, but it was necessary to go that afternoon. The place was crammed. Every machine was going.
Some cracker family bought lunch at a fast food shop and used one of the folding tables as a lunch counter. There were three children, as I recall, and a mess of salt, pepper, mustard, ketchup and coke.
When they finally got out of there, I wiped that table down myself.
Something needs to be done with the boxwoods. They line our broad front porch that is unusable because of mosquitos. They were planted as part of the original landscape plan for this house in 1962, before that live oak became a lovely towering shade tree. The poor little guys are not thriving.
This lot is 130' wide by 300' deep, pure cotton plantation. Our elevation is 60'. No feature of our landscape is natural. I'm thinking of calling in professional help. Jordana's "plant whore" strategy is not effective here.
I spent my adult life before coming here in apartments. My mother had a pretty yard. It was half this size.
Egads, I need a trip to Dallas. I just did a book exchange at the library (4 blocks up the street) wearing a Redneck Outfitters t-shirt.
I'd like to see the Nasher Sculpture Center downtown.
I'd also like to see the new Modern in Fort Worth.
I'm not a redneck! I'm not a redneck! At least not until I finish this yard work.
(And I am rube enough to want to take a train in Dallas. I read about that project most of my life.)
Kids, it is hot out there. And I've concluded that English ivy ain't nothin' but kudzu with an accent.
UPDATE: That's done. At least the trimming. I wonder what the painter is doing next week?
Ahem.
I replaced the steam iron when we reorganized the pantry. I had not emptied the water from it the last time I used it. When I looked closely at the tubes that indicate the water level, I saw organic matter floating. Closer examination showed that matter to be drowned sugar ants.
We had an infestation last year that culminated in a visit from Bug Busters while we were at the coast in November.
Ahem.
It is probably not to my advantage to report that I discovered this on June 5 this year.
I didn't bother to consult Heloise.
What to do? What to do? Onerous tasks ahead:
Hacking away the English ivy that threatens to pull the eaves off the house and touching up the paintI suppose the outdoor work should come first. The dust inside isn't going anywhere.Trimming all shrubs
Driving across town to a laundromat with super-capacity machines to wash bedcovers currently in use and two or three bedspreads that need to be stored
Overhauling the back bedroom, which has become a repository for unneedful things
Dragging all items off bookshelves and scrubbing/dusting them
Replacing shelf paper in kitchen cabinets where needed
That chore is complete. Six bags of about ten ears each are in the freezer. I used a sharp paring knife for the work. I have tried one of these but find it just makes a mess. You might have better results, but I doubt it.
Lyman shucked the corn and helped monitor the blanching. Big Daddy dropped by a few minutes ago and is delighted with our progress.
Peg Britton in Ellsworth, Kansas, is looking for a drum shade for a lamp. If you have any suggestions pop over to her site where her e-mail is posted and let her have them or leave them in comments here. I can tell her that the discount stores, including Target, will not have them. They are not the style now. Perhaps shops that specialize in retro styles would be helpful. Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore had drum shades on their lamps, if I remember correctly.
I can be of no help today. My project this day is to blanch, cut off and freeze a bushel of corn. Big Daddy delivered it yesterday afternoon. He doesn't care if he ever eats the corn, but it offends his senses of economy and tradition if none of the women in the family puts it up for winter.
Girl can't do it because of arthritis, and wouldn't if she could. She decided a long time ago that she didn't have to do the things her mother did. Lyman's sister won't because she is a queen. Lyman's brother's wife? Nah, she is not much of a hand in the kitchen and says so herself. That leaves me. I won't regret it in January.
The most tender thing I have read regarding Ronald Reagan's death comes from John Kerry's statement:
“Our prayers are with his family, and the wife he loved in a way all the world could see. And to the end, she loved him with courage and complete devotion ..."
Tsk, tsk. Another reason to make the recipe below tonight is that Lyman bought basil at the grocery for a recipe last night: Pork Scaloppine with Tomato Basil Sauce.
Herbs in our grocery stores come from Melissa's. A one-ounce pack costs $1.99. I have grown basil before. In this climate, the only problem is keeping it trimmed. For the same money in seeds, I could grow enough basil to supply every household from here to Baton Rouge. Worse yet, a packet of seeds is in my kitchen drawer.
We've turned up with gifts of garden zucchini and yellow squash. Tonight we'll prepare this recipe: squash with linguine. I found it years ago in a Contadina ad in Southern Living Magazine. Oddly enough, I can't find it at Contadina's large recipe site.
We have made changes. We use double the squash called for. We like a little kick with our meals, so we use Ro-tel tomatoes in place of the milder canned varieties. We also prefer fettuccine rather than linguine.The dish could stand alone as a summer entree, but also goes well with about any type of simple meat, chicken or fish dish.
After a less than brutal cull, we have arrived at a clean, tidy pantry, with nearly 24 feet of empty shelf space.
Lyman took over the arrangement of foodstuffs. He cooks as much or more than I do and I adjust to change better than he does. I don't think much of horoscopes, but he is a Virgo and I am an Aquarian -- when it comes to organizing things, he takes the lead. He can also become testy when things are out of place.
It was an interesting way to mark the 11 years that I have lived in this part of the country. I drove to Natchez, MS, from Dallas, TX, with the intention of living and working here on this day in 1993.
Lucy has a low spell at about 4 in the afternoon. She becomes drowsy and often can hardly keep her eyes open. She will not nap, but will draw one foot up close to her breast, and go quiet and still.
When she is in this mood, I like to draw close, look into her eyes, and softly, soothingly say "Poor Lucy. She's a sleepy girl. Sleepy, sleepy Lucy." Her eyes will close, and open, close and open, and close, then she'll shake her head to rouse herself, just as a busy daddy I've heard of does in church on Sunday morning.
It's a gesture I hadn't expected from a bird.
Seared Ahi Tuna Tacos with Avocado Salsa made a light, easy and tasty dinner last night. See, it's not all chicken-fried steak and gravy in the south.
I do wonder how far the food reformers would like to intrude. Do they plan to take cooking oil off grocery store shelves? Will they confiscate the turkey fryer? What about potatoes? People do vile things with potatoes, such as frying them, or God forbid, baking them and piling them with sour cream and cheese and bacon.
Believe me, I know how to load up on calories without going within a block of McDonald's, and so does every other resident of this town.
Where is my mother's coconut cream pie recipe?
I am cleaning the cleaner bottles and cans, to give you an idea of what's ahead.
I tossed an extra mop, an extra broom, a very nice little hardwood floor cleaner that a party guest gave us that I have used once, and a Swiffer dry thingy. Hah, we laugh at Swiffers in this house. Nothing less than a Shop-Vac garners our respect.
UPDATE: All these doubled things would make you think that Lyman and I clean together. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
I won't say the bathroom is finished. The painting is completed, the new light fixture is up and Lyman changed out the plugs and switches. It is clean. There are new towels and a new bathmat.
I am not happy with the color. Too green. And the room looks too hard. There are half a dozen ways to handle this and I am ruminating.
Today I bought shelf liner for the pantry -- one hundred and six feet and a few inches. I spent more than $45 on the cheapest serviceable product at Wal-mart. Tomorrow begins the tedium of cleaning things and positioning them conveniently. We will cull again. We might have differences.
And I can't find my razor.
UPDATE: Finally got rid of the verb in that sentence. Nothing looked right.
I would not have traded last night's dinner for the most exquisite dish from the kitchens of France: juicy fried pork chops, fresh okra and tomatoes with onions, and boiled fresh corn, sweet, crisp and tender.
Now there's another question. It rained 1.7 inches this morning before I rose at 10. What happened to the parade?
UPDATE: My answer is in this story:
The memorial began Monday morning, through the heavy morning downpour, as residents marched across the Mississippi River Bridge from Vidalia.Vidalia mayor Hyram Copeland said many of the marchers told him, "regardless of how hard it rains, it will not dampen our spirit."
Our flag became tattered by the wind several months ago. We took it down. Today we replaced it.
The young black drummers in the neighborhood behind us have been practicing for days. They will pace the parade across the bridge, where cars will pick up paraders for the trip to Natchez National Cemetery tomorrow morning. I don't know the history of this parade, but it has been a tradition in the black community here for at least 40 years, which is as long as Lyman can remember.
Nadine Crutchfield says it dates from World War II. Mr. Frank Williams, black veteran of World War II, says he marched in 1946, and the tradition was strong before that.
He tells me the veterans used to meet at the black veterans hall, then parade to the ferry landing before there was a bridge, march the four miles to the cemetery, partake in the ceremonies, then march the four miles back to the landing.
There's more to find out here.
UPDATE: Ask and ye shall receive. Here is a story in the May 31, 2004, Natchez Democrat that dates the tradition to Civil War veterans in 1868. Because the Natchez Democrat employs such young reporters, there is a glaring error in this story. The bridge linking Vidalia to Natchez was opened in September of 1940. There was only ferry service prior to that date.
It's taped up and cut in. Lyman is rolling the first coat now.
Painter's tape is wondrous stuff. Thank you, 3M.
The painting is done.
Why, you ask, did you paint when you hired a painter last week? First, because the painter had more important chores; second, I hadn't chosen a color; and third, I like to keep my hand in. When we created the great room I painted the cabinets in the office and those in the kitchen. We are talking on the order of 60+ paneled doors and drawer fronts, four separate coats, with sanding in between. I like the work.
One year ago today my mother died. She would be pleased with the household improvements. She kept an immaculate house with seven children and without money.
Lucy's pal, Mr. Rushing, delivered to us a bright, white, clean pantry and a well-primed bathroom while we were gone. We figure the pantry was last painted in 1979 when Lyman moved into this house.
This afternoon I am studying the color wheel to decide what color to paint the bathroom walls. The tile is beige and the cabinetry a blue. The paint has to complement the menacing ceramic lizard that Lyman brought from the coast last trip. He will crawl down the wall.
It's a small space with a window at the back of the house far from Lucy. A coat or two of latex shouldn't bother her.
UPDATE: Iced Teal it is.
UPDATE: I complain sometimes about living in a small town -- lack of entertainment, poor grocery choices -- then I receive the bill from Mr. Rushing. In the bathroom, he took down the light fixture that has been up since 1962, repaired some moisture damage in the corner above the shower and prepped the walls for the final coats. In the pantry he repaired the dryer vent, Kilzed all surfaces, painted the walls and ceiling with latex, and painted three large shelf units and one smaller shelf unit with oil. His bill, including supplies, is $275. And we didn't need to supervise the work. In fact, he keeps a house key.
We took the SUV to the coast. Well, it's owned by the family. Since September I have driven the little '97 Escort wagon that we bought as a second car. Lyman has taken over the Tahoe. He doesn't care for me to drive it anymore because I adjust the seat and mirrors, etc., for comfortable and safe driving.
We stopped on our way in at Mr. Ike Byrd's produce stand in Loxley to order six 50 lb. sacks of new potatoes and three bushels of Silver Queen corn to bring home for family and friends. Fifty pounds of new potatoes cost $8.00. A bushel of corn sells for $13.00. Mr. Byrd was happy to meet Lucy. "We're cousins!" he said. We've been to the stand before, but didn't meet Mr. Ike.
On our way out we picked up our order. The potatoes were dug and the corn picked yesterday morning. While we were there I spotted gorgeous green beans that had been picked yesterday, too. Four messes of those, and the okra looked good enough to pick up a couple of boxes for okra and tomatoes and a fry.
With Lucy's gear we had a full load. (Lyman and I shared a canvas carry-all. Lucy had a small bag, her acrylic travel cage and her playtree.)
That's why we own an SUV.
One of the most interesting bits of the trip was the stop at the Waffle House in Loxley for a burger on the way home. We sat in one of the booths near the griddle.
A young man, probably a high school kid, was training as the prep cook, and it didn't look easy.
The cooks don't use tickets. They depend on coded calls from the waitresses, and they can be complicated. As it says on the menu, there are hundreds of ways to have the hash browns, since they can be topped with any combination of cheese, chili, onions, etc. and each ingredient is called with a verb -- "covered", "smothered", "dashed", etc. (Not verb. What is that part of speech? Adverb?) You can order any number of eggs in all familiar ways. Toast can be white, wheat or Texas. Burgers can be single, double, with cheese, or bacon. On and on.
The kid was responsible for setting up the plates, preparing toast and waffles, and adding garnishes. At the time of day we were there a middle-aged waitress was patiently working with him. It was going to be a long day for both of them.
I worked as a waitress in my younger days and have a lot of respect for both waitresses and kitchen staffs. Even with experience I would have been intimidated in the boy's place.
That was a quick trip to the beach, complicated by a brake caliper freezing in Hattiesburg. We fortunately made our way easily to a mechanic who righted the problem in a couple of hours.
We only had two full days, so didn't even pack swim suits.
In the shopping capital of Alabama I purchased these glamorous items: a new toilet seat (through maintenance), two king-sized pillows, two oven mitts, four pot holders, a mat for the patio door, a set of flatware and a key rack.
The key rack is a brass affair with five dolphins standing on their tails. The tails hold the keys. Will guests figure out what it is? Maybe I should have bought the raw piece at Wal-mart that was a wooden cut-out of the word 'keys' and spray painted it. We'll see.
There was some wicker unweaving at the foot of one of the dining chairs. I worked on that.
On Wednesday night we ate at Grazzi, an Italian restaurant. They serve a spinach salad with bacon, tomato, gorgonzola cheese and balsamic vinaigrette that I want to replicate at home. It was delicious, or I was hungry, or both.
The drive home was easy. I tried to teach Lucy to say "Lyman, are we there yet?", but she was having none of it.
