PNewL PNewS Volume 31 Issue 4

 

PNewL PNewS

Volume 31 Issue 4         “All the pnews that phits.”           February 2024

 

Let’s talk about Cooking

     I have a love/like/I don’t want to relationship with cooking. I never hate it, but there are plenty of times when I just don’t want to. The older I get, the more frequently that is true and the more often I find myself expressing gratitude to those who cook for me (most often in restaurants).

     I have had friends who raised children who proclaim they never cooked. What did the children eat? My mother did not really like to cook but she raised five healthy well-fed children, in a traditional protein/veg/carb manner. (She took to cooking more adventurously after we left the house when she had a more appreciative audience and only a party of two.) As a kid, I remember occasionally imploring her to think about dinner—it seemed like time was short and she was reading her book and making no moves towards the kitchen. Since her repertoire was pretty limited and she relied heavily on The I Hate to Cookbook, she had the timing down.

     Dad helped with meals occasionally—he was the grilling guy and had a brief interest in making fresh pasta but that was all pretty special occasion-ally. We didn’t really eat out because Dad ate out at lunch every day, so Mom cooked for a family of seven endlessly and we usually finished the meal in under ten minutes. We were ruthless and not an inspiring audience.

     I am a bit more adventurous than mom—and that’s probably because our situations were so totally different. Often cooking for “just me,” I can get away with a fair amount. I can eat just about anything (except liver—well, all organ meats—and beets…and don’t bother thinking you can get me to like beets). In addition, I have had the time to take cooking classes, and study recipes online and while traveling.

     I’ve been on a cooking jag of late. New York Times Cooking has been helpful—I like all kinds of Asian cuisine and they have been inspiring. And Instagram and Facebook think I need new recipes so they show me stuff. And a knitter I follow posts recipes every day of January which she calls Veganuary. I want to make it all so I make my grocery lists and come home with most of what I need but not all and then I can’t remember which recipes I’d bought for and inevitably don’t have all of what I need for any one thing so I make do.

     The other night when it was cold and blustery and I wanted comfort food, I did my occasional dinner from cans. This always seems like cheating, and unfair that it can be pretty darn tasty. Cans of beans (pinto or kidney or some sort of white bean), tomatoes (whatever kind is on the shelf), chopped green chilis + more heat (as Susan calls it), put in a big pot with sauteed onions and garlic (and whatever other veg is lying around) and chopped up sausage or in this case, leftover fancy hot dogs. Add a sprinkle of grated cheese. Ta da.

     I do get tired of things though. Sometimes when I look at the pot of whatever I came up with, I wonder who I think is going to eat it all but more often than not, it gets eaten. Leftovers are a blessing and so is a space in the freezer.

 

 

 

 

 

The Buster Report

I was kinda thinking there wouldn’t be a Buster report this issue. He has generally been pretty good. He hasn’t run away for more than a half-hour in a while. He is a crazily affectionate guy. He’s good company and he is good when he’s at Bonnie’s Puppy Camp.

     The other day, just as it was heading toward dusk, I looked out at the backyard, and there were two bunnies…playing…or doing a mating dance or some combo of the two. It was precious—they chased and hopped over each other. It truly looked like they were having fun. Then they departed for parts unknown. Shortly after, Buster wanted to go out, and he retraced every step those bunnies took…and he has been looking for them ever since. (Editor’s note: Shortly after writing this, I came home to find Buster had eaten half a bag of dates. Sigh.)

 

Just a Teeny Bit about Travel

Bill, Denis and I made another trip to Portugal—a little bit of Lisbon, several days of Tavira, and a road trip up and back. (It’s less than four hours so it wasn’t much of a road trip.) It was delightful. We went for the period before Christmas so we got to see how another country does it and I didn’t have to defend my lack of interest in celebrating the holiday. Our apartment was right across from an itty-bitty Christmas market and the venue for live music—they had a production of something each day in the run up to Christmas. Some of it was truly wonderful, some not so but still win-win. Oh and I was in Tavira with Bill and Denis! Always a good thing.

 

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations 

• Don’t you love it when people who don’t respond to multiple emails are provoked when their emails aren’t responded to pronto? Pet peeve.

• Maybe this is just an introvert thing, but there are times when I am grateful for getting points for making a date to get together and then it’s cancelled for weather, illness, general malaise or some other snafu, and I get to stay home.

• I was once a very good speller. The computer has destroyed that.

• Sometimes I sit down and my watch warns me that I need to stand up to get “credit” for this hour. (I was just standing…) Smart watch? I’d like to quibble.

 • I saw on Instagram that there was a knit-tiny-things knitalong and that sounded like fun and there was a pattern for a garland that included a pig that I liked for $3. Such a deal! I bought it. It’s in Norwegian! I thought, how hard can it be? VERY. Google translate helped but there’s a long way to go. I’m a nut.

• I made an ATM deposit. I realized there was a mistake but figured that someone would find it when they audited the activity that day—it’s happened before. I guess they don’t look at them anymore. I called the branch to rectify the problem—it became my problem, not theirs. After convincing the branch manager that I was not a lying cheating scoundrel (I feel that way most of the time when I deal with them…and it’s a Credit Union for crying out loud…they are supposed to like the people…or so I thought), it took them two days to give me my $50 back. Note to self: be more careful.

• I took off for a morning of errands. At the first stop, I looked down and realized the black fleece jacket I was wearing was covered—covered—in short red Buster hair along with the occasional longer white Peggy hair. There was also a small something that when scraped turned into a fine powder that spread across the jacket. What to do? I decided to ignore it—I’m at the invisible age. No one will care, or notice, but me.

• An unintended consequence of lackadaisical laundry habits allowed me to go through my entire stack of blue jeans. Since I buy most of my clothes at Goodwill, the jeans are various sizes colors shapes and brands. Going through each one at the beginning of the season reacquainted me with my inventory. It’s almost like I planned it!

• I do not buy potato chips often. When I do, I need to buy the potato chips I like—not the ones I think I “should” or that are on sale—or I’ll just waste empty calories.

• I was driving home from downtown on a sunny day in later December. It was kinda warm and my windows were down. Two guys from the City (there was a white SUV with the city logo parked nearby), opened the fire hydrant, and blasted my car, inside and out, temporarily making it impossible to see. I was understandably shocked. Thankfully there was no one ahead of me or coming towards me and I was fine—shook up, but fine. My concern was that the person behind me was on a motorcycle! This all happened suddenly and there was no time to react. I drove the next quarter mile in a daze... By then I figured it was too late to go back and I was wet.

     When I got home, I wanted to let someone know, but who? I found a Facebook page for the Asheville Fire Department. (I figured they must know something about fire hydrants!) We had a friendly exchange and they determined the people were not Fire Department people. I wrote the Water Department and got no response. Then I wrote the Question Man at Asheville Watchdog, the independent online news source in town. He said he’d check into it. He did! He got about as far as I did, though someone from the City said they thought their people would be smarter than that but they’d tell folks to be more careful or some blahblah along those lines, and it was determined no motorcyclist had died on that day or been badly injured so there you have it. My advice: when you see someone messing with a fire hydrant, make no assumptions about their intentions.

• Just spent an hour listening to Brennan Center for Justice’ lawyers talk about some of the things happening in the courts these days. I am so glad there are people whose brains work the way theirs do. I could no more think or talk the way they do than fly (which no one should trust me to do either). It has given me something to ponder—how different people’s brains work. It made me wonder if that is the source of issues I’ve had and have with some other people—we just don’t get each other. Our brains work so differently and perhaps I don’t appreciate that the way I could. I am sorry it has taken me so long to grok this.

• I’ve been pondering my next tattoo. I have—to my mind—a great idea. My research has taken me down several rabbit holes/black holes of time. It’s potentially controversial if done disrespectfully and I would never want to do that. I have been contacting sources who have weighed in and I think I could do it appropriately. I still need to talk to people closer to it to determine if I am going to offend and then confirm some details. This is complicated (and permanent!) When I get somewhere with it, I will let you know. (Well, that was kind of mysterious—I love me a little mystery.)

• It has come to my attention that it is February 20th. How’d that happen? Seems we were just wading through the holidays and now we are waddling towards Spring. Slow down 2024! This is going to be long year—we need to pace ourselves!

 

It’s been a while...nice to see you again