Send the children to another room:

For contrast. I saw these men in a small concert hall in New York, about 1980. Full Indian regalia.

I read in comments to one of the videos that a person didn't like Aaron Neville's voice.

Someone replied, "Have you SEEN Aaron Neville? You gonna be the one to tell him he can't sing?"

Miss Alberta, young. What a woman.

I saw Miss Alberta in New York, about '81. Maybe earlier.

An interview with an older Miss Elizabeth here. I had the great privilege of hearing her play in person at Reed in or about 1975. She wrote "Freight Train."

She played left-handed upside-down. Didn't know no better, she said in concert.

Then I will.

I'm all up for suggestions to push the Christmas music off the front page on this site. We are into a new year. Scott? Paul? Sarah? I take in Gregorian chants, Jordana?

I like her.

Oh, shut up you drug-addled rock singer.

Have some Betty Crocker recipe pancakes and a dose of genuine maple syrup. The back bedroom is clear, and necessary toilet articles are in a basket beside the sink in the bathroom. Clean towels in the pantry behind you. I'll listen for your breathing.

Quip of the day from comments at Kimberly Stuart's blog:

Thank goodness I'm not the only one aging. It's like all mirrors have suddenly gone HD.

UPDATE: Let's change the name of this feature to "Quote of the Day," which is probably more accurate, and allows more leeway.

Kate has a good idea.

She was too busy to send out Christmas cards on time. Read the post and you'll see why. You'll also see that she brought up the idea of sending out Groundhog Day cards.

Now, I don't normally do cards. But it occurred to me that it would have been a welcome gesture to send cards to our service providers at the coast, particularly the cleaning service staff.

I'd like to find a good picture of Pierre C. Shadeaux to use for a card for Cajun Groundhog Day (even if Pierre is a nutria). Pierre does not predict the length of the winter, but the length of the spring. If he sees his shadow, we'll have an early summer.

Unexpected, fun and serves the same purpose.

(I did speak to the service people at the coast while we were there, but only to the manager of the cleaning service.)

The dinner menu: battered, deep-fried pork chops, black-eyed peas, mustard greens and hot water cornbread. Good luck to you, too, in the coming year.

My New Year's Eve plan is to fall asleep reading The Fourth Crusade, loaned to me by Charles the Brother. (Not Charles the Bird, aka Little Charles, Charlie Big Toes, and Charles Gore. Not to mention Punk.)

So if I don't post before then, I wish you all a happy, healthy, safe, prosperous, sweet new year.

I really don't need this weather today, as if I ever did.

UPDATED: Never mind. All past with hardly any rain.

My mama, on the other hand, ran her household like a drill sergeant. With seven kids to manage, she had to keep things in check. Five boys could have cleared her shelves in as many days.

She also used jelly glasses. Which I'd do if we ate that much jelly. Break or lose one, there's another in the refrigerator. Hard to make a set when you use up a jar of jelly in about three years.

Do they even sell jelly in glasses anymore?

My biggest peeve with the youngs of this household is that they don't respect the commons. Things -- glasses, towels, tools -- have a place and should be returned to that place for use in the future.

Glasses particularly. Oh, I (speaking for the house) own a set of water glasses if I can count those in cars, Natchez and Baton Rouge as a set. Kids don't even have to put them in the dishwasher. Just set them in the sink.

Ferals.

For ten years, I've been dragging around a ratty checkbook with tatty corners because it was loose in my purse. And I always carried another checkbook with a cheap bank cover because It contained my ID and cards.

So I splurged this year.

Now I am in control of my destiny (at the very least, my appearance at the checkout counter), come hell or high water. We've had some of both at the coast during the past decade.

I am becoming my mother.

It's in the way I touch fabric, or lean over the dishwasher, or want to rip all the Christmas stuff out right NOW, because the season is over. Over, I'm telling you.

Time for a new year.

In this day and time, people only get "Les Pauls" as gifts.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BQyQ2ucUsA

For you, James.

Merry Christmas!

Santa's welcome to come rest for a lacy nog after he helps the fathers in the neighborhood with the trampolines. Our sons expect them to be working until about 4 am. Maybe later.

One of my guests is wearing Bulgari perfume. Right off, I'll say I favor her over the other persons in the house.

Christmas wisdom: responsible, home-owning 35- and 40-year-olds like $3 toys. Bingo was a hit.

Chef Tony, the rolls still aren't right.

Alrighty, then. I have my saf-instant yeast and my King Arthur Flour, so let's tackle this recipe for rolls again.

Time to step up now, guests coming Tuesday.

For Christmas, I want a checkbook cover for the beach account and to be successful at making these rolls. Santa can keep his sables, unless it grows colder.

Our young Texans will be passing through again on their way to Florida on Tuesday. They'll stay two nights. I like them.

My, that was a bracing walk across the parking lot to the pool this windy morning.

The morning or evening swim might become a habit when we're here in the future. Feels pretty good after working.

But I'm ready for the fireplace at home.

We are staying today. I have my suit. Sandra and I are going to swim (indoor pool), then we might have a Bloody Mary, and dinner tonight -- she has a disloyal boyfriend, a brother recovering from a severe motorcycle accident, and a case of the blues.

The girl needs some company. She's been lonely. Did I tell you that I like women? No, silly, not that way.

UPDATE: We've been taking care of details, but our first year renting through VRBO has given us a place in better shape than the rental company ever did. Our cleaners are better, and inventory is right on. I want to publicly thank the people who rented here for being so considerate. Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to you!

UPDATE: What a fool I have been. That was a lovely swim. Dummy, dummy girl.

60 degrees this morning. How nice.

Oh, for Pete's sake.

I was taking the tape down after I'd completed a repair to the bathroom ceiling popcorn when the tape stripped some paint off the walls. Out of respect for my dear readers, I'll not repeat what I said at the time.

At least the paint is here, unlike the gallon that I bought for the living room last time we were down.

Did someone take a hankering after Dover white walls? 'Cause it sure nuff ain't here.

40 degrees this morning. Much better. Expected high about 61.

Down at beautiful Orange Beach, Alabama, basking in a balmy temperature of 32 degrees. 22 last night. The snowbirds are threatening to move south.

Done, and done for.

The luncheon went fine. Now it's time to get ready for the second seating with a couple of young Texan visitors/overnight guests.

UPDATE: Do tell. We'd stocked in some commercial dressings in the event that Lyman's family didn't like the strong-tasting vinaigrette that we'd prepared. They loved it. His brother asked for the recipe.

I'm running low on elbow grease. Y'all have a good source?

Ray Charles and Betty Carter singing Baby, It's Cold Outside.

Decline the survey, play video at the bottom of the screen.

If it means getting off the floor, I refuse to do it today. But there are fifteen chairs worth of legs to be dusted, so I'm cool.

About those spoon rolls.

Goldy says, "Well, yeah!"

A lovely tender crumb that would be perfect with a dab of butter and jelly and a side of sausage. The baking powder is there, but not overwhelming. Less sweet than I thought. If you can't make rolls or biscuits (my hand is up), this is a way to go.

Not for this luncheon, but a possibility for a Christmas breakfast. Which will likely be around one o'clock.

Alrighty, then. On Friday we'll be serving the annual Christmas luncheon for Lyman's mother, his siblings and their spouses. The menu this year: shrimp cocktail, mixed green salad with black olive vinaigrette, deep-fried soft-shell crab with crawfish cream sauce, scalloped potatoes, and chocolate molten souffle. And whatever bread I can bake or buy.

If I live that long. I've been cleaning since past Friday.

Now I have plain white all-purpose flour, unbleached all-purpose flour, self-rising flour, cake flour, bread flour, whole wheat flour, rye flour and masa flour. Soon I'll have unbleached bread flour. And plain all-purpose yellow corn meal, because cornbread is the best.

Second batch is as lousy as the first. I'm retiring this recipe until the King Arthur supplies come in. I'm an okay baker and it puzzles me no end why it isn't working for me.

So, Goldy, you think we should try some spoon rolls? You know they'll be too sweet. But we're curious, aren't we?

We'll lay in some powdered milk and potato flakes, and try these tomorrow.

A bit of interesting information from King Arthur Flour about how an "active baker's" kitchen has enough wild yeast about that bakers can reduce the amount of yeast they add to dough:

Basic flour-water-yeast-salt doughs (which may also contain a bit of oil and/or sugar), such as those for baguettes, focaccia and pizza, are the best candidates for an all-day countertop rise. Keep in mind, however, the vagaries of your own kitchen. If you bake bread all the time, your kitchen is full of wild yeast and any dough you make there will rise vigorously. If you seldom bake bread, or are just beginning, your kitchen will be quite “sterile;” your dough won’t be aided by wild yeast, and will rise more slowly than it would in a more “active” kitchen. We’ve found that here in our King Arthur kitchen, where we bake bread every day, we can cut the yeast back to 1/16 teaspoon in a 3-cup-of-flour recipe and get a good overnight rise. In a kitchen where bread is seldom baked, we needed 1/2 teaspoon of yeast to get the same effect. Use your judgment in rating your own kitchen as to “yeast friendliness.”

Ummm, that didn't do so well on day one after mixing. Auntie Bear forgot to fold the dough a few times before shaping the rolls for final rise. Good flavor, though.

But Auntie is only baking four rolls at time, so she can practice.

UPDATE: Day two's look the same. I've emailed the baker for an opinion. That's an opinion other than "Girl, them's a mess."

UPDATE II: Frank from King Arthur's castle says I used the wrong yeast. He approves of my using active dry yeast bloomed in part of the water, then proceeding according to the recipe.

The recipe calls for instant yeast. Fleischmann's (what I can buy here) makes no distinction between instant yeast and their "Rapid Rise" yeast, but King Arthur's does.

...and Goldilocks said, "This roll is too sweet, plus she should have let it rise for at least another half hour."

Then she said, "This roll is okay, but needs butter rather than shortening, and it doesn't smell like a proper cafeteria roll."

Finally, she found a lump of dough in the fridge. "Yo, that dough looks weirdly flat. Is there any yeast in there? Do you think I should poke it?"

To be continued...

All in all, I'm thankful that life is simple enough:

How better to give thanks than show some joy:

Dave Brubeck's "Thank You," which is in honor of Chopin, but it has a lovely November mood:



Developed into an ensemble piece with sax, with ad in front and during piano solo(!):


Thank you - Dave Brubeck
Uploaded by boberwig. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving.



That's Einstein, not Charles Gore.

Now, y'all. My sister-in-law has some experience with this:

Posted: Dec 25, 2009
Reviewer: from Atlanta, GA
Overall: Rated:5 stars! Comfort: Rated:5 stars! Style: Rated:5 stars!
Shoe Size: Felt a half size smaller than marked Shoe Width: Felt narrower than marked

Unfortunately, these shoes are cute but much, much narrower than sized (the W size is even narrower than a NORMAL size), and at least half a size smaller. My tiny little mother is less than 5 feet tall and weights 95 pounds, and has a 5.5 size foot. I got her the 5.5 W and she couldn't even get her foot into it! I'll be sending these back and trying another brand -- thanks Zappos for your great return policy

Un hunh. Of course, her mother bought a 5.5 when she was 25, had three children, then insists that she wears the same size at 87.

Lyman's sister took her mother (size 5) shoe-shopping in Baton Rouge. We made sure her favorite salesman at Dillard's would be on site at the time she arrived. When he offered her a six to fit her foot, not only did she think he was out of his mind, but wouldn't even try it on.

She wears slides now.

This is not a political post, and I'd appreciate it if you'd accept it that way.

I have been nearly blind with envy since Bristol packed off to do her stuff with Dancing With The Stars. Yes, yes, a ton of work, but tons of hours working with a professional dancer at the network's expense.

I have a sense of music, and rhythm, and could rise to Florence Henderson's level even if my legs aren't as pretty.

As consolation, I'm thinking of buying these shoes as moderate dress shoes.

I wore out a pair of nude-colored Capezio's that I bought for the community theater stage, they were so comfortable. That was more than 30 years ago, though.

But it's Zappo's return policy, so where's the worry?

UPDATE: I don't think I've ever lived a day when I could have balanced a Louboutin.

Alrighty, then. A juvenile Malay Eagle Owl that likes a good rub.

At this blog we call it allopreening. Charles Gore has since decided that Lucy won't (they are separated because we don't want her to gouge his eyes out), and welcomes the rub on the back of the neck from pals.

(Thanks, Tim Blair.)

Jimmy helps us with the yard. He isn't married and doesn't cook much. So when Lyman offered him leftover meatloaf, sauce, and mashed potatoes, he piped up with the quip of the day:

I've got a mouthful of taste for that already.

Who is the young athlete with the Washington Redskins who can do a standing back-flip in uniform?

The southern rains drifted through here last night, so today was a good day to drive to Baton Rouge -- overcast skies, but dry pavement.

Shopping was charmed.

Patel Bros. does not have a shop in Baton Rouge. But Fashion India expanded with a grocery department. We found asafoetida, fenugreek seeds, cardamom seeds, tamarind paste, garam masala, black mustard seeds, amchur powder and curry leaves. The leaves are fresh, but the ladies assure me that they can be frozen. I saw rose syrup, then forgot to pick a bottle up. I remember rose lassi from my days in New York.

Almonds in the shell were $3.29/pound at Fresh Pickins produce. Pomegranates 69 cents apiece. Call it the bird stop.

Whole Foods sells half-pound blocks of Callebaut chocolate in milk, semi-sweet, bittersweet and white.

Then to Tony's Seafood for turtle, shrimp, stuffed crabs and a treat of boiled crabs.

Let's not forget Gas Lane No. 17 in Woodville on the way down for a fresh snack of chicken-fried chicken gizzards. (Lyman says they're not as good as the ones at Shell in Bude.)

UPDATE: Lyman is trolling (fisherman's term) the couple of Indian cookbooks we own. (Thanks, Jordana.)

Peg Britton points to a video from Random Acts of Culture.

Two local restaurant managers gave thumbs up to Chocolate Molten Souffle last night.

So that's dessert for the Christmas luncheon, and one of the easiest I've ever made.

I'll go online with King Arthur's Flour (thanks, Tony) for some higher-quality chocolate for the final product.

UPDATE: Whole Foods will carve Callebaut semi-sweet chocolate off the big block for customers, $8.99/pound. I haven't been to Baton Rouge since Lucy took her fall.

Surfing around today, I found that local Regina Charboneau is writing a food column for The Atlantic Online.

Due for a trial run this weekend.

I read Nashville Chrome by Rick Bass this weekend. It's a novel treatment of The Browns' biography. The "chrome" in the title is a reference to their polished harmony.

Bonnie there was romantically tied to Elvis Presley before he became famous. They traveled to England to help The Beatles with their harmonies. They were produced by Chet Atkins at RCA.

I don't remember hearing them before.

UPDATE: A recent interview with Maxine Brown, with song clips.

Chef Tony brings a pumpkin fest to our attention.

Middle-aged bar conversation:

"So, do you come here often?"

"No, I was passing by on my way home. My son works in the kitchen."

"This is the second time I've been in this this bar. My stepson is the bartender."

Quip of the day:

From Lyman's son, at the last wedding he attended, speaking to his ladyfriend who remarked that she had forgotten her camera:

"Never mind. You can bring it next time."

On another note, what to do with bridesmaid dresses:

Kim Eaton of Pleasant Hills has been a bridesmaid a dozen times. By the time she got engaged at age 38, she had a rogues gallery of dresses in storage -- spanning several decades, styles and sizes.

"You've got to get the shoes that are dyed to match the dress," she says. "Guess how many times I wore those lime-green pumps."

She was at work one day when her friends secretly raided her attic. The night of her bachelorette party, the guest of honor went to the Ruddy Duck, Downtown, where she was flabbergasted to be greeted by a covey of friends, resplendent in her assorted bridesmaid dresses.

"We boarded a mini-bus and spent the evening hitting the 'bars of my life' -- from Froggy's to the bar I played softball for in the '80s, to the Oakland bars from my law-school days, to Chiodo's, to my hometown local bar and several in between. They wore the dresses all night and in every stop. Needless to say, the gowns were not of much use after that trip, but I couldn't think of a more fitting end for them. Who says you can never wear a bridesmaid gown a second time?

(Thanks, Pittsburgh Live.)

Quip of the day:

"I always suspected you pretended to sleep so you wouldn't have to listen to me sing. It is not one of my greatest talents."

Elizabeth Peters, He Shall Thunder in the Sky, p. 92, William Morrow, 2000

Good grief, I'm boring and tiresome.

So I'm instituting the quip of the day from my reading.
I have two:

From Gawker in a discussion about Meghan McCain regarding Christine O'Donnell:

"Isn't that the bimbo calling the airhead blonde?"

From comments at Jordana's site, on the issue of having large families:

"We come in peace."

Charles Gore has been violated today, and he was so furious with me that he wouldn't speak or whistle or tweet while I was in the room. He has a right.

I took him in for a beak, toenail and wing clip today, and they butchered his flight feathers. The point of the clip was to prevent him from breaking his neck by taking a long glide through the living room with a curve to the enclosed porch where I have heard him bonk against the windows.

Now, if he takes a leap, he's likely to break his keel (or his leg) on the floor.

I love my vet, but I'm afraid she needs some training in aerodynamics, and needs to oversee her aides better.

I'm far less afraid of the birds getting lost than of them being injured in the house.

Look at Lucy here. Her secondary flight feathers have been clipped. Those provide lift. The primaries provide thrust. Trim some of the primaries to lessen thrust, and leave those secondaries to provide glide. Without the secondaries, the bird will drop like a rock. I can't say that's what happened to Lucy because I didn't see, but it's logical.

Charles has a big new cage since you've last seen him. Bless his heart, he'll just have to stay there. Or we can do floor exercises.

I watch these two little creatures like a hawk. Poor things must be nervous.

UPDATE: For reference, Proper wing trimming

Now, why would a couple of rednecks in Louisiana need star anise?

Here:

Thai Sea Scallops in a Rich Red Curry Sauce

Ingredients:

8-10 medium to large sea scallops (Serves 2 for a main entree, 4-8 as an appetizer), OR 20 bay scallops
handful fresh coriander
1-2 whole star anise, plus more for garnish
wedges of fresh lime or lemon (optional)
1/2 cup coconut milk

RED CURRY PASTE:
1 shallot, OR 1/4 cup purple onion, chopped
1 thumb-size piece galangal, OR ginger, sliced
3 cloves garlic
1/8 tsp. white pepper, OR substitute black pepper
2 Tbsp. fish sauce (available at Asian stores)
2 tsp. chili powder
2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground coriander
1 Tbsp. brown sugar
1-2 tsp. Thai chili sauce (or substitute 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper or crushed dried chili)
1 tsp. shrimp paste (available by the jar at Asian stores)
1/2 cup coconut milk

Preparation:
1. Place all curry paste ingredients in a food processor or blender. Process well to form a thick paste/sauce.
2. Place 2-3 Tbsp. of the paste in a mixing bowl. Add the scallops and gently stir, so that scallops are covered with paste. Set aside.
3. Drizzle 2-3 Tbsp. canola or other vegetable oil into a wok or frying pan set over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, add the rest of the curry paste/sauce.
4. Add the whole star anise and stir-fry the paste/sauce until fragrant (2-3 minutes). Gradually add 1/2 cup more coconut milk. Reduce heat slightly and simmer another minute or two, until the sauce is nicely blended and bubbling.
5. Now add the scallops. Cook the scallops by stirring and turning them in the bubbling curry sauce.
6. Check the inner flesh after 3 minutes to see if they are cooked. Tip: Scallops are done when ridges begin to form around the outside, and the inner flesh is no longer transparent. Look for flesh that is white and opaque. Large scallops may need up to 5 minutes to cook, while smaller ones may need only a minute or two.
7. When scallops are cooked, remove from heat. Do a taste test. If not salty enough, add more fish sauce (1/2 Tbsp. at a time). If too sour for your taste, add 1-2 tsp. more brown sugar. If too spicy, add more coconut milk. If not spicy enough, add more chili flakes or a dollop of chili sauce.
8. Transfer the scallops along with the sauce to a serving bowl. Accompany with jasmine-scented Thai rice, or my Easy Coconut Rice. Garnish with wedges of lime or lemon, fresh coriander, and whole star anise. Serve with Thai jasmine-scented rice, OR Easy Thai Coconut Rice and ENJOY!

Janis: This is a deep, dark sauce like those of the gumbos down here. Different flavor, same comfort.

Star anise is available in Natchez.

None of the Loy's have it, and Lehman's doesn't have it, but the Mexican taqueria up 61 north does have it. They keep a small rack of spices. They had two bags. Lyman bought one.

I called before he went. The Hispanic woman who answered the phone spent some time making sense of my request.

"Do you know who you have called? This is Mi Tiendita."

"Yes, I have been there. Do you have a spice on your rack called star anise?"

"Rack? I don't understand."

"You have a place in your store where you sell epazote and cumin. Do you have star anise?"

"Star anise? Yes, we have it. Two bags. I'll hold them for them you."

Problem: Merriam-Webster vs. howjsay (Needs speakers)

Dammit if Lyman wasn't right there, too. (And the spice looks fresh.)

Let's track back to the visual aid in Chris's post.

What is the opposite of anguish? Don't check Google. I'd say "exhilaration." Not so sure I could come up with that at, say, 15.

What is your answer?

UPDATE: Roget's states: comfort, ease or health.

What is the opposite of exhilaration? Agitation, upset, depression, worry

Let's look at the OED:

Anguish is primarily a feeling of excruciating discomfort. Secondarily, oppressive grief or mental distress. Hmm. Chris needs to put up lessons more often.

I think I'll take issue with the opposite in this case. The other, maybe, or resting state, but not opposite.

Stupid food reality TV. "If you're stranded on a desert island, what is the one ingredient you want?"

My BFF, Lyman, says "fresh water." Yo. Not a suckling pig.

Chris is livid about the crap teachers are expecting from her teenaged children.

Read the comments. How do you draw "manifest destiny"? Can you, like, do it as graffiti? As Diego Rivera? A map? Romance? A westward ho? (Somebody did their homework at Deadwood. Trixie looks like the spirit in the painting.)

I am utterly confounded as to how you would draw the word "such" in any way other than graffiti.

I've never understood the bitching about public education. But I left the public education system in 1974. Now I have a clue.

Thank you, Chris.

UPDATE: (From Chris's comments) "In my opinion, Middle School should just be banned entirely. One of my boys has to write a poem using every one of his spelling words every. single. week. We might as well take him to the dentist and ask them to remove each of his teeth with a rusty pair of pliers and no novacaine while playing classical music or talk radio in the background."

Just in time for cool days ahead, a new keeper that Lyman picked off the Food Network:

Asian Chili Chicken Noodle Soup

About This Recipe (from the chef)
"I love one-dish meals and this fantastic soup fits the bill. Adjust the heat to your taste and substitute other noodles like rice noodles if you like. For those who don't like cilantro use basil in a smaller amount, and please don't leave out the lime juice! Adapted from a Food and Wine cookbook."

Ingredients
1 tablespoon oil
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 onions, chopped
2 celery ribs, sliced 1/4 inch
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, minced
2 tablespoons chili powder
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes (add more if you like a lot of heat)
1 1/2 quarts chicken broth
1 cup crushed tomatoes (from a can)
1 1/2 lbs boneless skinless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
3 tablespoons fish sauce (nam pla or nuoc mam)
1/2 cup cilantro leaves, chopped
3/4 lb spaghettini or 3/4 lb rice noodles
1/2 lb bok choy, sliced 1/4 inch (add more if you like)
1/2 limes, juice of
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped, for garnish

Directions
1. In a large pot heat oils over medium heat.
2. Add onion, celery, garlic, ginger, chili powder and red pepper flakes. Reduce heat to medium low and cook for 5 minutes, stirring now and then.
3. Add the broth, tomatoes, chicken, fish sauce, 1/2 cup cilantro and bring to a simmer. Cook, covered, for 1/2 hour.
4. While the soup cooks bring a pot of water to boil and cook the spaghettini to al dente. Drain.
5. Add spaghettini, bok choy and lime juice to the soup. Cook for 5 minutes.
6. Garnish with the 1/4 cup cilantro and serve.

I've been thinking about this little scenario that Ben Wetmore and James O'Keefe (keep those names in mind) put together.

That little video would have been so much funnier and more effective if the director cut from the scene of the reporter crying and begging to be let off the boat to one of the boat captain rigidly guiding the boat back to shore with a Lady Smith pointed at his ear.

The revolver is more traditional. For girly girls, The Pink Lady. At 12 ounces, the Pink Lady would be comfortable and inconspicuous to tote.

The boys have made a top-notch case for concealed carry. They should sell it to the NRA. Or Smith & Wesson, or Charter Arms... Is that the "punk" they were looking for?

Our ideas of "funny" differ, don't they?

As a bird lover, I would be remiss if I didn't pass on this article about the Northern Saw-whet Owl.

Hard to get cuter than that.

(Thank you, Mr. Blair.)

I've told you that I love a good blog blow-up.

I am still gathering my wits about the senseless plot to discredit CNN reporter Abbie Boudreau.

The mentor of the script is at Esquire.

James O'Keefe is this young man.

Abbie Boudreau tells a story included in this synopsis.

And I'm staggered because it is beyond silly.

I can't see at this day and time why a bunch of women would call the whole escapade a source of "sexual humiliation." Big girls call it "sexual harassment," and if a woman doesn't have legal recourse, backhand him, punch him out, or make him strain against his gonads. The boys fantasize that she'll be crying and begging to be let off the boat.

The whole notion of sexual humiliation is out of the books, boys.

I popped two of the buggers when I was working at the newspaper in Texas. They weren't sources though, they were managers. Could be why I live with a defense lawyer.

UPDATE: At Media Matters, Ms. Boudreau says that CNN has held back parts of the 13-page memo because it was "too sexually explicit" for its audience. What sort of fever dream was Wetmore entertaining?

Andrew Breitbart must have the whole thing. And he wants an explanation.

UPDATE: Mr. O'Keefe explains.

So why the boat at all? And what about that dumb girl, Izzy Santa? Excitable women -- what to do with them?

Had a nice conversation with my sister yesterday.

After a protracted run of the "Summer Snots," she has become a devotee of the neti pot.

It's the first day of Fall! Yay!

So it's not too early to begin assembling the menu for the family Christmas luncheon.

On the menu so far is the traditional shrimp cocktail, deep-fried soft-shell crab with a crawfish cream sauce, those lovely scalloped potatoes I tried last year, a salad and a dessert.

The salad and dessert are open so far.

Do I ever do good news?

I have a piece. A 57-year-old National Guard vet who's done a turn or two in Afghanistan stayed at the condo in August with his wife and daughter.

It's policy that we give a gift basket for those who stay a week, but we backed off this summer because we reduced prices in view of the well disaster.

Lyman and the mister wheedled each other a bit and we decided to give a basket to this couple.

The guests and the basket arrived at the same time. I suppose they went up the elevator together, because she had time to notice and admire it before it arrived at her door.

Is there anything better than admiring something and have it instantly become yours?

Our resident redhead gave us a turn on Thursday.

She was squinting again, which we learned five years ago is evidence of pain, and vomiting again. And drinking a lot of water. Looked like the egg-binding episode to me.

I took her to Dr. Debbie. An x-ray didn't show an egg, but, she said, a thin-shelled egg won't show up. In an abundance of caution, the doctor dosed her with a vial of calcium and one of fluids for egg-binding and prescribed an antibiotic in case of bacterial infection. Drinking a lot of water can be a sign of infection.

Lucy laid a thin-shelled egg Friday night.

Our thirty-one-year-old clothes dryer died. It was a Kenmore. Rest in pieces, fella. We won't see the like ever again.

Something worth blogging about. I don't much care about telling everyday stuff, but I'll pass this on from my brother.

He says that if you don't like television and are in a non-private room in a hospital, your rights are not respected. He was in that situation at the VA. He doesn't watch television. He socializes.

I rarely watch television anymore, and I despise the din. I don't watch CNN, I don't watch Fox, I don't watch Oprah or morning shows, I've lost interest in HGTV, and a battle between young chefs doesn't hold me.

It ticks me off that Lyman's younger son sleeps on a couch beside the television in the front room rather than a bed with clean sheets.

That's it.

That Lucy. The little red hen sits about closed-mouth until everyone is out of the house and I'm in a back room, then she lets loose with the most interesting trills, clucks, honks and variety vocalizations, including words.

This week I'll begin trying to videotape her. She won't make it easy.

Ya know, if you're a woman who wants to be tattooed all up and down your arms and legs, you might think about buying print tops that don't clash with the tattoos.

Just sayin'.

New vocabulary: osteomyelitis, vertebral, in this case

Um, Belk's is having a good sale on light summer pajama pants and shorts, some more than 50% off.

My brother developed a debilitating low back pain that didn't respond to treatment. A trip to the VA for a week and two MRI's and a bone scan later brought doctors to this diagnosis.

Now he's hospitalized again for up to eight weeks of treatment. The only thing he can think of that might have caused the infection is a persistent bedsore that he developed when he was in the hospital before.

What a bore. But this time, he is being treated in our new Promise acute care facility on the bank of the Mississippi here in Vidalia. It's about five minutes away from here and accessible to friends.

His room is on the river side with a huge picture-window view of the river and the bridge.

Thank you, Leila.

Why do I think Leila lives in a Southern household? Maybe Texan.
"...through the niiiiight, from the liiiiight up abuv..."

Leila, sweetie, I'm not making fun. I'm a Texan in the Deep South.