Hi,
I had a great Halloween, did you?
This year I was invited to take part in a haunted house set up at my friend Kevin's place. Every year for the last four years he has done up his home in Fairless Hills, PA (10 minutes from our place) to entertain the neighbourhood on Halloween. Kevin is the guy I use to do maintenance on our lawn, cut trees and hedges down to size, occasionally plow snow that we can't move ourselves. This fall I found out he is a landscaper with an edgy side. He was growing his hair long and when I asked why, he told me for his Halloween event. I'll bite... what 'event'? He does up his house as a scary place for the trick or treat crowd. I offered to help out since we don't get a single trick or treat-er in our neck of the woods. The main street is too busy for kids to walk and the houses are too far apart. You'd never get anywhere or get any amount of goodies in this place. When I asked what Kevin planned to do at his home I knew immediately what I could offer to help with. Make-up!
Kevin gets all his family and a dozen or so friends to assist with his haunted house. They spent three days setting up a maze on the front yard and around the back using landscaping tarps, black light, strobes, flashing bulbs, neon balloons, dozens of decapitated manikins, tombstones, body parts, sound systems with scary music and screams everywhere.... a bond fire burning witches, dismembered victims, grim reapers... you name it, they have it. I came over at 3pm and did make up for the zombies, crazed clowns, maniacal priests, chainsaw slashers, vampires, ghosts and anything else they asked for. It was fantastic. Kevins' mom brought in food so everyone could eat before taking their places and then the fun started.
Their neighbourhood is teaming with kids. They also had been putting up sign around the whole place for a week promoting the haunted house. Last year they had 200 people coming through.... probably as many if not more may have shown up this year. I stuck around to see the full effect as I walked the maze. Disney on bad drugs would be a good way to describe it. Every turn and twist of the maze has something flashing or screaming at you, things and people jump out when you least expect them. It's creepy and ghoulish and funny as all hell. It also costs Kevin a lot of money to buy all this paraphernalia and set it up but he and his partner, Dana and their families love it and wouldn't miss it for the world. I loved being a part of it all and have signed up for next years event.
I have to start planning my costume.
xox
m
Day Lily!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
It's Fall
Hi,
I'm about to surrender to the seasonal change and move my light weight summer clothes into storage for the next forever. This time of year depresses the hell out of me.
I don't like to see my garden die it's slow, horrible death. Everything is covered with frost in the morning and starting to wilt in the worst way. I know I'll have to plan a day to dig up the canna & elephant ear tubers to store for the winter or they will rot in the cold earth. The tall grasses will stay until the spring but all the irises and lilies will have to be cut down. No more blooms to look forward to, no more blossoms to oooh & aaah over for months and months. Yes the fall colours are pretty but they fade too quickly, leaving a mess of leaves everywhere to rake and clean up out of the pond. Just more work in my opinion than they are worth.
It's dark now at 5:30pm. By 7:30 at night I feel like I should be getting ready for bed. It's dark when I wake up. Was fall always this gloomy? I think not, but every year it gets harder for me to deal with the damp cold as it creeps into my bones and stays until April. Wearing 5 layers of clothes doesn't seem to keep me any warmer. Thank goodness my husband is a furnace and I have him to radiate heat in my direction. Speaking of furnace, our thermostat is on the fritz so we're waiting for a heating-guy on Monday to set up a new thermostat or relay (I'm not sure what the issue is). I can turn the heat on, no problem, but it doesn't shut off at all. Last night I forgot to turn if off and by 2am it was almost 80° in the house. I woke up in a sweat, with a headache. That was the end of that nights' sleep. Can you tell Fall makes me cranky?
Planning to get through the winter is an event all it's own. I try setting up 'spring-like' events to get me past the cold. The Philadelphia Flower Show is a favorite. We are taking an Atlantic crossing cruise in April. Hopefully in December we will get down to Florida for a few days of sun & sand. These trips keep me from going completely insane over the pending doom & gloom of Fall and Winter. I wish we lived in the Caribbean but I think island living is not going to fit my husband at all. At least not full time.
I shall survive.... but I still wish it was April, not November next month.
xox
m
I'm about to surrender to the seasonal change and move my light weight summer clothes into storage for the next forever. This time of year depresses the hell out of me.
I don't like to see my garden die it's slow, horrible death. Everything is covered with frost in the morning and starting to wilt in the worst way. I know I'll have to plan a day to dig up the canna & elephant ear tubers to store for the winter or they will rot in the cold earth. The tall grasses will stay until the spring but all the irises and lilies will have to be cut down. No more blooms to look forward to, no more blossoms to oooh & aaah over for months and months. Yes the fall colours are pretty but they fade too quickly, leaving a mess of leaves everywhere to rake and clean up out of the pond. Just more work in my opinion than they are worth.
It's dark now at 5:30pm. By 7:30 at night I feel like I should be getting ready for bed. It's dark when I wake up. Was fall always this gloomy? I think not, but every year it gets harder for me to deal with the damp cold as it creeps into my bones and stays until April. Wearing 5 layers of clothes doesn't seem to keep me any warmer. Thank goodness my husband is a furnace and I have him to radiate heat in my direction. Speaking of furnace, our thermostat is on the fritz so we're waiting for a heating-guy on Monday to set up a new thermostat or relay (I'm not sure what the issue is). I can turn the heat on, no problem, but it doesn't shut off at all. Last night I forgot to turn if off and by 2am it was almost 80° in the house. I woke up in a sweat, with a headache. That was the end of that nights' sleep. Can you tell Fall makes me cranky?
Planning to get through the winter is an event all it's own. I try setting up 'spring-like' events to get me past the cold. The Philadelphia Flower Show is a favorite. We are taking an Atlantic crossing cruise in April. Hopefully in December we will get down to Florida for a few days of sun & sand. These trips keep me from going completely insane over the pending doom & gloom of Fall and Winter. I wish we lived in the Caribbean but I think island living is not going to fit my husband at all. At least not full time.
I shall survive.... but I still wish it was April, not November next month.
xox
m
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Cigarette butts
Hi,
I work at an athletic center. I teach swimming to children and adults. I love my job. Could someone please explain to me where all the cigarette butts on the parking lot pavement come from?
The Newtown Athletic Center is huge. It offers everything from childrens' dance classes to mixed martial arts events. I like to think that all the members and staff are healthy and health conscience people. Obviously not according to the pile of nicotine stubs in the surrounding area of the property.
Today after teaching in the pool for 2 hours I headed to my car, and on the way, for no real reason, I started to count the cigarette butts on the pavement. I was parked in a far corner of the lot so I had to walk approximately 75 yards to my car. I counted 112 cigarette butts in that distance. They have been renovating and repaving the lot for the last 2 weeks so I know this is 'fresh garbage' on the ground. The work crew that I have seen smoking have been told to put their butts in the trash and I've seen them do that, so what is lying on the ground has to have come from members going in & out of the club. What makes a person spend a small fortune to workout at a health club and still smoke?
I have seen members light up the minute they leave the building. Hot & sweaty from their treadmill run or Zumba class, puffing away as if their life depended on it. It's almost comical. You just worked your body to the bone, trying to maintain an aura of health and here you are sucking on a cancer stick. What's wrong with this picture? It certainly matches the one I used to see of all the health professionals at the hospital puffing away outside the building, then heading in to the oncology ward. These are people who should know better and set an example for others. It warps my mind that doctor, nurses and members of health clubs can still smoke with a straight face on. I'd laugh but it really just makes me want to cry.
I have to look at my cancer scars everyday. I am lucky that I have only scars to remind me of what I went through. Maybe smokers need a few visible scars. Nothing else seems to keep them from dropping their trashy butts all over the parking lot.
xox
m
I work at an athletic center. I teach swimming to children and adults. I love my job. Could someone please explain to me where all the cigarette butts on the parking lot pavement come from?
The Newtown Athletic Center is huge. It offers everything from childrens' dance classes to mixed martial arts events. I like to think that all the members and staff are healthy and health conscience people. Obviously not according to the pile of nicotine stubs in the surrounding area of the property.
Today after teaching in the pool for 2 hours I headed to my car, and on the way, for no real reason, I started to count the cigarette butts on the pavement. I was parked in a far corner of the lot so I had to walk approximately 75 yards to my car. I counted 112 cigarette butts in that distance. They have been renovating and repaving the lot for the last 2 weeks so I know this is 'fresh garbage' on the ground. The work crew that I have seen smoking have been told to put their butts in the trash and I've seen them do that, so what is lying on the ground has to have come from members going in & out of the club. What makes a person spend a small fortune to workout at a health club and still smoke?
I have seen members light up the minute they leave the building. Hot & sweaty from their treadmill run or Zumba class, puffing away as if their life depended on it. It's almost comical. You just worked your body to the bone, trying to maintain an aura of health and here you are sucking on a cancer stick. What's wrong with this picture? It certainly matches the one I used to see of all the health professionals at the hospital puffing away outside the building, then heading in to the oncology ward. These are people who should know better and set an example for others. It warps my mind that doctor, nurses and members of health clubs can still smoke with a straight face on. I'd laugh but it really just makes me want to cry.
I have to look at my cancer scars everyday. I am lucky that I have only scars to remind me of what I went through. Maybe smokers need a few visible scars. Nothing else seems to keep them from dropping their trashy butts all over the parking lot.
xox
m
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Keep your hat on
Hi,
I'm a bald chick. I quiet like it actually. No hair issues to deal with, ever. I never have a bad hair day any more and they used to be the "problème du jour" in my life. No more. I wear scarves, wigs on occasion, and more recently, funky hats. I'm finding the hats can cause interesting reactions more often than not.
Yesterday the greeter in Walmart made a point of stopping me to comment on how terrific he thought my hat looked. He kept me at the door for at least five minutes going on and on about the hat-look. Ruben is a nice guy and a perfect Walmart greeter but this was over and above his duty. Monday I was out having lunch with friends and again the hat caused comments and smiles of approval from strangers. It's a weird thing to have people feel the need to acknowledge something on your head. I would let the whole thing pass except it happened twice last week also. In a parking lot a gentleman called out "nice hat". I looked around to see who he was talking to.... yup, had to be me. I was the only person in the lot.
I have had women tell me how nice a hat looks on me. That they used to wear them all the time. Why did they stop? Fashion dictated that it was no longer part of the ensemble necessity. Too bad. Hats seem to cause a stir. There was a great book published about the women who wear hats to church. Black women in particular love to wear fabulous 'crowns' to services. The orthodox Jewish gang also spend a lot of money on head gear. My all time favorite was Ruthie Bass, my friend Brads' mom. She wore tremendous colourful hats to synagogue every week. I could always find her in the congregation crowd. The hats were her signature and everyone knew her because of them. I also had a friend in Toronto who worked in sales. She started wearing fun hats on sales calls and they were a great opening for her. People seem to respond to hat wearers differently than non-hat wearers.
Not every hat gets a reaction though. Ratty baseball caps don't cause much of a stir. I haven't had a single person note the covering of my head when I wear one.... but when I wear the ivory leather baseball-style cap I bought in Greece, then I get noticed. I feel my head gear is an experiment in the making. If I was a larger person I might try more extravagant hats, but I'm too short to pull them off. I just look over powered by big brims or larger toppers. I knit a really cozy fisherman's cap. Marshall has one and he swears by its warmth. I like the fact that hats keep my head warm. I'm always cold. Head coverings do make a big difference in my body temperature. Sometimes function out-weighs fashion.... but it's always fun to get a person to smile just because of the hat-of-the-day.
xox
m
I'm a bald chick. I quiet like it actually. No hair issues to deal with, ever. I never have a bad hair day any more and they used to be the "problème du jour" in my life. No more. I wear scarves, wigs on occasion, and more recently, funky hats. I'm finding the hats can cause interesting reactions more often than not.
Yesterday the greeter in Walmart made a point of stopping me to comment on how terrific he thought my hat looked. He kept me at the door for at least five minutes going on and on about the hat-look. Ruben is a nice guy and a perfect Walmart greeter but this was over and above his duty. Monday I was out having lunch with friends and again the hat caused comments and smiles of approval from strangers. It's a weird thing to have people feel the need to acknowledge something on your head. I would let the whole thing pass except it happened twice last week also. In a parking lot a gentleman called out "nice hat". I looked around to see who he was talking to.... yup, had to be me. I was the only person in the lot.
I have had women tell me how nice a hat looks on me. That they used to wear them all the time. Why did they stop? Fashion dictated that it was no longer part of the ensemble necessity. Too bad. Hats seem to cause a stir. There was a great book published about the women who wear hats to church. Black women in particular love to wear fabulous 'crowns' to services. The orthodox Jewish gang also spend a lot of money on head gear. My all time favorite was Ruthie Bass, my friend Brads' mom. She wore tremendous colourful hats to synagogue every week. I could always find her in the congregation crowd. The hats were her signature and everyone knew her because of them. I also had a friend in Toronto who worked in sales. She started wearing fun hats on sales calls and they were a great opening for her. People seem to respond to hat wearers differently than non-hat wearers.
Not every hat gets a reaction though. Ratty baseball caps don't cause much of a stir. I haven't had a single person note the covering of my head when I wear one.... but when I wear the ivory leather baseball-style cap I bought in Greece, then I get noticed. I feel my head gear is an experiment in the making. If I was a larger person I might try more extravagant hats, but I'm too short to pull them off. I just look over powered by big brims or larger toppers. I knit a really cozy fisherman's cap. Marshall has one and he swears by its warmth. I like the fact that hats keep my head warm. I'm always cold. Head coverings do make a big difference in my body temperature. Sometimes function out-weighs fashion.... but it's always fun to get a person to smile just because of the hat-of-the-day.
xox
m
Monday, October 10, 2011
Mary Chapin Carpenter
hi,
Saturday night Marshall & I had tickets to see Mary Chapin Carpenter in concert at the McCarther Theatre in Princeton. I've been a big fan of hers for years and was looking forward to this performance. The McCarter is a great small venue, perfect for what I thought would be an enjoyable evening and date with my husband. It didn't turn out that way.
The concert was a total dud. The most disappointing thing was the sound quality, or rather lack of quality. We had center orchestra seats, perfectly located for optimal sound and view of the stage. From the opening chord we knew there was a huge problem. You couldn't hear the vocals, the piano player looked like he was playing but there was no sound to his instrument. Guitars were muddy and muted. Even the band looked dismayed at what was coming off their monitors in front of them. At one point a stage hand appeared and flipped the drummers monitor around, as if it was set up upside down to start with. It went from bad to worse when half way through the concert all the sound man managed to do was make the whole mess louder instead of fixing the mix. Now all you heard was loud unbalanced noise coming out of the speakers.
The rest of the concert wasn't anything to write home about either. The opening 3 songs were 'new', unintelligible lyrically and dirge-like. The pacing of the whole concert was draggy and dull. The only time the audience got excited was when Mary started in on her older hits which are lovely songs that we all sang along to. She and the whole band were dressed in black. It looked like a funeral procession on stage, and with the black back drop it was positively depressing. Mary also wore an ill-fitting pair of jeans that were not flattering or fit properly. Come on, show some style and grace at least, for what they charge for a concert I don't want to see someone look like they just came in from weeding the garden beds. Pretty shoddy.
Marshall & I both walked out shaking our heads at how lousy the whole thing was. I should have let Marshall go to the mixing board in the back of the theatre and fix the sound problems. He could have done a better job than the fat, pony-tailed yo-yo sitting there. The audience was too polite to cause a scene but you could tell when we walked out that no one had been impressed by the evening. The bus from the seniors home was waiting out front, possibly most of the patrons may have been too deaf to notice the lousy sound quality... or they all thought they needed new batteries for their hearing aids?
I did send and e-mail off to Ms. Carpenters management letting them know how poor we thought the concert was. That made me feel better, sort of, but I would have rather had the fun night out I was expecting.
........um, I feel lucky today. NOT!
xox
m
Saturday night Marshall & I had tickets to see Mary Chapin Carpenter in concert at the McCarther Theatre in Princeton. I've been a big fan of hers for years and was looking forward to this performance. The McCarter is a great small venue, perfect for what I thought would be an enjoyable evening and date with my husband. It didn't turn out that way.
The concert was a total dud. The most disappointing thing was the sound quality, or rather lack of quality. We had center orchestra seats, perfectly located for optimal sound and view of the stage. From the opening chord we knew there was a huge problem. You couldn't hear the vocals, the piano player looked like he was playing but there was no sound to his instrument. Guitars were muddy and muted. Even the band looked dismayed at what was coming off their monitors in front of them. At one point a stage hand appeared and flipped the drummers monitor around, as if it was set up upside down to start with. It went from bad to worse when half way through the concert all the sound man managed to do was make the whole mess louder instead of fixing the mix. Now all you heard was loud unbalanced noise coming out of the speakers.
The rest of the concert wasn't anything to write home about either. The opening 3 songs were 'new', unintelligible lyrically and dirge-like. The pacing of the whole concert was draggy and dull. The only time the audience got excited was when Mary started in on her older hits which are lovely songs that we all sang along to. She and the whole band were dressed in black. It looked like a funeral procession on stage, and with the black back drop it was positively depressing. Mary also wore an ill-fitting pair of jeans that were not flattering or fit properly. Come on, show some style and grace at least, for what they charge for a concert I don't want to see someone look like they just came in from weeding the garden beds. Pretty shoddy.
Marshall & I both walked out shaking our heads at how lousy the whole thing was. I should have let Marshall go to the mixing board in the back of the theatre and fix the sound problems. He could have done a better job than the fat, pony-tailed yo-yo sitting there. The audience was too polite to cause a scene but you could tell when we walked out that no one had been impressed by the evening. The bus from the seniors home was waiting out front, possibly most of the patrons may have been too deaf to notice the lousy sound quality... or they all thought they needed new batteries for their hearing aids?
I did send and e-mail off to Ms. Carpenters management letting them know how poor we thought the concert was. That made me feel better, sort of, but I would have rather had the fun night out I was expecting.
........um, I feel lucky today. NOT!
xox
m
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Harissa
Hi,
today's' topic is hot sauce. You either love it or hate it. No one is ambivalent about hot sauces. I personally love real heat in a sauce. The hotter the better. Marshall thinks I could probably strip paint with some of the sauces I will eat. He might be right.
We have a membership to the local co-op farm. Every Thursday I get to go and pick fruit & vegetables. There is nothing better than fresh food. This year has been a bumper crop of hot peppers. Heaven! I pick two or three pounds every week and make fresh harissa. Harissa is a Mediterranean pepper sauce/condiment that is used on everything in the Middle East. You take hot peppers, jalapenos, poblano, habanero , red, green, purple... I don't care what as long as it's got the heat. Then I roast the peppers and some garlic. Throw it all in the food processor with some olive oil, ground cumin and caraway seeds, and voila! Fabulous hot sauce.
Not everyone is a fan. My husband can take 'some spicing' but for the most part he's not excited about setting his taste buds on fire or turning purple from the blast in his mouth. I am very appreciative of his sensitivity. When I cook I add my heat post-plating. He rolls his eyes at the mound of harissa I throw on my food. I dig in with joy and abandonment. I don't feel the burn, only pure pleasure of exciting taste on my tongue. Hot sauce is what I crave. The rest is just a carrier for the heat I like to eat. I know that the fire breathers in the circus don't get burned and neither do I.
Where did this taste develop from? Jewish cooking is usually 'flavorful' but never on the spicy side other than peppery, so I didn't grow up with hot spices in our house. We did have the standard bottle of Tabasco sauce but that was strictly for Bloody Marys before dinner or a drop on a fried egg Saturday morning for breakfast. I didn't discover real heat until I found Indian food in my late teens. My Uncle Bob & Aunt Judy introduced me to Indian cuisine in Toronto and I've never looked back. Bring on the vindaloos sauce. Yum. Since then I have had my spice cupboard stocked with the makings of masalah and most Indian dishes assorted flavors. Maybe I was born on the wrong continent. Dull North American food doesn't get my attention. I want serious ignition of flavor in my beans.
Making my own hot sauce is a pleasure. Sharing it with others who have the same affection is a joy. I was able to serve it the other night to Marshalls' boss & his wife who came for dinner. They had brought me a bottle of olive oil from their olive orchard in France. I was thrilled with it. Fresh olive oil is so special. I, in turn, gifted them with a jar of my freshly made harissa from peppers I had harvested last week. It makes for an important friendship when you can exchange and share cuisine. There is a bonding in love of food. Hot sauces make a great welding.
xox
m
today's' topic is hot sauce. You either love it or hate it. No one is ambivalent about hot sauces. I personally love real heat in a sauce. The hotter the better. Marshall thinks I could probably strip paint with some of the sauces I will eat. He might be right.
We have a membership to the local co-op farm. Every Thursday I get to go and pick fruit & vegetables. There is nothing better than fresh food. This year has been a bumper crop of hot peppers. Heaven! I pick two or three pounds every week and make fresh harissa. Harissa is a Mediterranean pepper sauce/condiment that is used on everything in the Middle East. You take hot peppers, jalapenos, poblano, habanero , red, green, purple... I don't care what as long as it's got the heat. Then I roast the peppers and some garlic. Throw it all in the food processor with some olive oil, ground cumin and caraway seeds, and voila! Fabulous hot sauce.
Not everyone is a fan. My husband can take 'some spicing' but for the most part he's not excited about setting his taste buds on fire or turning purple from the blast in his mouth. I am very appreciative of his sensitivity. When I cook I add my heat post-plating. He rolls his eyes at the mound of harissa I throw on my food. I dig in with joy and abandonment. I don't feel the burn, only pure pleasure of exciting taste on my tongue. Hot sauce is what I crave. The rest is just a carrier for the heat I like to eat. I know that the fire breathers in the circus don't get burned and neither do I.
Where did this taste develop from? Jewish cooking is usually 'flavorful' but never on the spicy side other than peppery, so I didn't grow up with hot spices in our house. We did have the standard bottle of Tabasco sauce but that was strictly for Bloody Marys before dinner or a drop on a fried egg Saturday morning for breakfast. I didn't discover real heat until I found Indian food in my late teens. My Uncle Bob & Aunt Judy introduced me to Indian cuisine in Toronto and I've never looked back. Bring on the vindaloos sauce. Yum. Since then I have had my spice cupboard stocked with the makings of masalah and most Indian dishes assorted flavors. Maybe I was born on the wrong continent. Dull North American food doesn't get my attention. I want serious ignition of flavor in my beans.
Making my own hot sauce is a pleasure. Sharing it with others who have the same affection is a joy. I was able to serve it the other night to Marshalls' boss & his wife who came for dinner. They had brought me a bottle of olive oil from their olive orchard in France. I was thrilled with it. Fresh olive oil is so special. I, in turn, gifted them with a jar of my freshly made harissa from peppers I had harvested last week. It makes for an important friendship when you can exchange and share cuisine. There is a bonding in love of food. Hot sauces make a great welding.
xox
m
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)