I'll Get There. Someday.

I am soooo easily distracted.  I vowed to straighten up the guest room/my office today.  On the way I

made coffee

emptied the dishwasher

watered the yard

fed the dogs

made breakfast

soaked in the hottub

got dressed

tried to nap

took my daily meds

played with photos on the computer

and then, then, I made it to the guest room where, in order to clean up I needed some good music.  So I got on Amazon, was told I needed to update my Firefox and Flashplayer, did that, searched for the music I wanted to buy (the new album by Neko Case, Laura Veirs and kd lang), purchased that with one-click, forgot all about playing music and why I'm actually here in this room.  (Remember to gather photos together for dad's book today.)  Then I realized why I am here, I was looking to play some music, some simple tunes, to boost my spirits while I straighten up this damn room.

So...what'll it be?  Going to go with my Genius Jazz mix.  Ok.  I'm going to go DO IT.  RIGHT NOW.

Right after I post this:

TGIF

It's been a lovely week.  Rain on my birthday cooled things off considerably and made it a delight to be out in the middle of the day.  My husband helped to make my day special, from gifts (the photo book is especially great) to meals to just being his usual sweet self.  My Facebook friends showered me with the love.  My daughter and her family sang 'Happy Birthday' to me over the telephone.

Dad made my favorite stacked red enchiladas with a fried egg on top.  Strawberry cheesecake was devoured with champagne.

Mom and I marveled that I could possibly now be 58 years old.  We all swapped hysterically funny stories of life at Chez Crowley when the sisters and I were young.  Mom had a very good time watching her family yuck it up.  I love the smile on her face on these occasions. She lights right up.

Tonight we are going to San Francisco to visit with Peter Turnley at the Leica store/gallery on Bush Street.  He'll be signing books, of which we have many, most of them already signed.  After his lecture and signing, we're off to dinner with several friends who share our passion for photography.

Fifty-Eight and feeling great!

I leave you, friends, with this great quote from Pablo Picasso:

It takes a long time to become young.

and Bob Dylan:

May you stay forever young.

TGIF

It's bitterly cold out there.  For us, any way.  32F this morning.   And with the wind, if 'feels' like 26F.  I've only felt it momentarily while letting the dogs outside.  My husband trekked the icy streets to obtain a new coffee bean grinder since ours went up in a blaze of glory two mornings ago.  Bless him.

Like me, you've probably seen your share of NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS and mostly likely, like me, sick sick sick of them.  There is one cute one, however, an oldie by Woody Guthrie.  I like (or not) that he has to resolve to "send Mary and the children money."  That, of course, makes me want to check in with Mary to see what happened. 

The highlight of the season, as I predicted, was the visit of my grand son and his parents.  He is a body in motion at all times.  His parents have discovered the necessity of television in order to bring him to a full stop.  Here he is snuggling with Lucy, which is a major milestone.  In the past, he has spent his time chasing her and she exhausts herself trying to escape his tiny hands.

Peace.  At last.

So, no resolutions, but I do have to organize myself for the coming months.  We're  traveling to Cuba and to Yosemite in the next few months.  Things to do to prepare.  #1 is get a new passport.  I'm feeling a tad overwhelmed (that happens fairly often and effortlessly) but a useful ballast is to DO things:  I took down the Christmas tree last night.  Packed up the holiday cards.  Inspected the kitchen for ants.  Good news: all gone.  (We had an amazing candied apple sent to us and we, foolishly, left it on the counter.  It was the irresistible siren song to tiny crawling creatures.)

I've also gone through FB and eliminated all the news feeds, in an effort to streamline the information that comes through.  No more "Rock the Slut Vote," "Fat-free Vegan Eating," and the endless political pages I signed up for.  I am keeping Pema Chodron, however, and Anne Lamott.  I'll leave you with a bit of friendly wisdom from Pema:

But loving-kindness ~maitri~ towards ourselves doesn't mean getting rid of anything. Maitri means that we can still be crazy, we can still be angry. We can still be timid or jealous or full of feelings of unworthiness. Meditation practice isn't about trying to throw ourselves away and become something better. It's about befriending who we are already."

On this first Friday of the year, I wish you a peaceful weekend.  May 2015 bring good things to all of us.

Posts from La Maison du Bonhuer

I have settled on a name for our new abode: La Maison du Bonhuer, or, House of  Happiness.  It fits perfectly.  There is a French comedy film by that name, as well as a B&B in France.  But this one, here, is ours and ours alone.

While unpacking cookbooks yesterday, Monsieur and I came across this beat up book, The Bride's Cookbook.  It boasts "Menus for a happy marriage: 300 recipes dedicated to the proposition that a well fed groom is a husband forever."

Published in 1958, the first page says, "1,000 Ways to Please your Husband."

What pressure.  What presumption.  It's comical now, to look back, but when I think about the time in which in was first on sale, this kind of thinking in America was what popular culture was pushing.

This, and prim little plaid shirt dresses and A-line skirts.  It's a Mad Men kind of thing (though I confess to watching only part of an episode of that show).

The book and its ideas are a relic.  And a history lesson, i.e.

"Poultry dishes of all kinds are delicious and, as a rule, economical.  Today's dressed birds (that is, cleaned and drawn) require practically no additional attention before cooking.  You can have a wonderful time trying unusual dishes without having to revert to that old standby, the Sunday roast chicken.  Try some of the newly developed birds such as the Rock Cornish Game Hen or the Cape Hen."

I remember mom cooking up those game hens....but what about "Today's dressed birds..."  How the heck did they come before that?  Feathered?  Unclean?  Guess I'm too young to understand.  I'll have to ask Mother about this.  She'll get a kick out of this and perhaps I'll get some good young-wife-with-three-children-under-5yrs-isolated-in-1950s-nuclear-family stories.

Do you have any old cookbooks about?  I'd love to know what they are and what kind of dishes they write about.  Oh, and by the way, I LOVE roast chicken, Sunday or any other day. Shove some garlic and rosemary under the skin and bake at 400 until done.  Lip smackin' D-E-L-I-C-I-O-U-S.