PNewL PNewS
Volume 29 Issue 4 “All the pnews that phits.” December 2021
A 32 year old bi-monthly pnewsletter by and about a single, aging woman with a lot of time on her hands.
PNewL PNewS
Volume 29 Issue 4 “All the pnews that phits.” December 2021
PNewL PNewS
Volume 29 Issue 3 “All the pnews that phits.” September 2021
Our New Normal
I was walking with Roger in July when neighbor Beth stopped to chat. Somehow it came up that I was maybe possibly kinda thinking about maybe possibly getting a dog…a “transition” dog. The next thing I knew, I was meeting Roscoe, a busy little CRD, as my vet called him—a Carolina Red Dog. He was found by the newspaper delivery person. She wants to be an “Ambassador” for the Humane Society and I guess is practicing. She found this little dude on the road, tried to find an owner, got him fixed and all the bells and whistles of being a legal dog (shots, chip) for free, and heard I was looking. They showed up on my front porch at 8 the next morning. We had a good meet and decided to try a sleepover. I said I was going out of town so maybe it would be better to do it before so she wouldn’t be waiting around wondering if we were a match. I picked July 4th (he’s not bothered by fireworks, thankfully). That morning she showed up with him before 7:30, apologizing that she hadn’t let me know when she was coming. I was ready. I had figured out her MO.
The sleepover went fine. Roger and the new guy did their social distancing. They kept an eye on each other but didn’t interact. I decided to go for it. I changed his name—Roscoe didn’t work for me. Buster Brown came to mind and stuck.
Welcoming a new member into any household is an adjustment. Some for better and some for worse. Adjusting to Buster, has its ups and downs. He’s great fun and a total pain. He has a youthful enthusiasm we’ve been lacking. Sometimes I forget the part about how I now have two faces looking at me as if every moment not spent on them is a disappointment. Now I’m reminded…regularly… I have two beings counting on me. It can add up, but the upside far outweighs the downside. Well except for the running away part. Oh and the weird shrieking bark.
When I picked up Roger and Buster from puppy camp, Bonnie was very complimentary of both dogs and their relationship. She said they needed to find each other. I liked that—they do seem to like each other…even the rough and tumble rough-house before breakfast which includes a lot of biting. She also said she’d had other campers that look like Buster and she thinks he’s a “puggle” — a designer dog??? I went home and googled it and yup, I’m afraid he is a puggle. And then there were the characteristics: a weird bark, a desire to run. And then the physical issues: breathing issues from the smooshed nose. His is not too smooshed but he can be a loud breather. Okay that’s enough. He is what he is. He ran last night and he came home so that was good to know—he knows where Home is.
Prepare for more tales of the Adventures of the Boys.
80-20
When I was in Montana in May, I got to listen to a tele-health appointment with one of Martha’s healthcare team. When she asked if she needed to eat “clean” forever. He laughed and said, Think 80-20. That is 80% clean, 20% …party! Okay he didn’t say that last part, but he did say she could do what she wanted.
Recently, there was a posting on a Covid related FB page that was set up by a local to support people during this crazy time. It has been good and kinda sweet but sometimes veers into us vs them between maskers and anti-maskers and vaxxers and anti-vaxxers, and the moderator asked that we think 80-20 when posting: 80% positive and 20% rant.
Is this 80-20 a thing? I like it. I’m thinking I will adopt it for my mantra—I aspire to 80% busy to 20% sloth. 80% good behavior, 20% not. 80% angel, 20% devil. (I ASPIRE…) We’ll see how it goes. I’ll let you know…if I remember…
In the New Times of the ’Rona & Other Miscellaneous Observations
• I often wish I had my camera or phone to take a picture that I know will not be there to take if I move. I know I should enjoy the image and not bother with documenting it, but, you know…
We got to have our 40th Angel Island Picnic—but no camping this year. (Reservations were cancelled for camping because of Covid and then they were opened up again but we didn’t know about it until we were on the ferry. It was a cool foggy day and I was not sorry to be heading back to warm and dry that evening.) I visited with several people, missed a few. Guess I’ll have to go back! And got some up close and personal time with the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco Bay. And went to a lovely wedding reception on a farm in western Sonoma County. Sweet! Despite this being an overused and annoying (to me) expression, it was, indeed, all good.
• Pardon me if this is the 100th time I have said this but Think Long and Hard and Then Think Again before you hit Reply All, please.
• I had a great couple days this summer helping unpack the craft supplies of a crafter’s estate for a sale at Local Cloth. It made my collection of supplies pale in comparison. Seriously a LOT of stuff. I kept saying, one day someone is going to be asking these same questions about my stuff (what was she thinking? What do you suppose she used this for? SO many unfinished projects!). The sale went well, sold a lot, donated a lot to libraries, school art programs and UNCA theater department. Made some money for the family of the crafter and for the organization and a lot of stuff was passed on to new crafters. It was surprisingly satisfying and productive.
Afterward, I put together my pictures for the happy couple and Martha and Mike. I figured the “real” pictures would take a while and it would be fun for them to have insta-albums. When I edited them down, I found there were few people in them—all my pics were of dogs and flowers and food. That’s the important stuff right?
“Always be on the look out for the presence of wonder.” EB White
“If we can uproot the tree of hate, what would the landscape really look like?” LaTosha Brown
PNewL PNewS
Volume 29 Issue 2 “All the pnews that phits.” June 2021
Adventures in Cooking
One of the many reasons I like traveling is about the food. Sometimes it is exotic and something I have never had before. Sometimes it’s Cold Soba Noodle Salad with Veggies at my sister’s house (and then again at the lake—a recipe so nice, we had it twice). It’s all about getting out of the rut, or into a new one.
So in addition to putting my eyes on my recovering sister, which I didn’t realize I needed to do so badly and reassuring myself she was the strong funny person I know and love, we got to spend some time in the kitchen together cooking and eating when I visited last month. (It takes some calories to recover from cancer treatment, so says her handsome funny doctor—I was there for a tele-health appointment. As a witness to Martha’s healthy appetite, I would agree.) She has some enviable knife skills I have never had the patience to master. You wanna fine mince? She’s your gal.
From that visit, I came home with a few new recipes and a new cookbook to purchase, and I have jump started my cooking which had gotten a bit tired after all of the months of home alone eating my food. I have picked up some other new recipes during the pandemic—from David on Facebook (Vietnamese creamy noodles), and from Splendid Table, and from Creative Mornings Field Trips (Gyoza! Gnocchi! weirdass Japanese soufflĂ© street food! there were others I can’t think of at this time!), but I am always happy to find something fairly simple and tasty and which does not make so much that I have to eat it for days in a row.
When I went around the world, now 26 years ago (!), the whole idea came to me as an excuse to take a cooking class at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok that I had read about in Gourmet Magazine. It seemed easier to take a year off and bang out the Grand Tour of Europe I hadn’t done in my youth and make my way to Thailand than leave for shorter bursts and do separate trips. Ah the workings of my mind. Well, it worked out well, and by the time I got to Bangkok, I realized I could learn easily and more cheaply from chefs at food stalls in narrow streets or in gas station parking lots. (I did visit the Cooking School at the Oriental Hotel but was escorted through the lobby as apparently I didn’t look like their usual class of guest. And I did take a cooking class at the Cordon Bleu and got in trouble for talking in class, but that’s another story.)
I am glad I like to cook, am willing to experiment…and fail sometimes. I have always been curious when people say they don’t cook, especially when it is someone who raised children. How did that work? What happened at mealtime in those homes?
Now, several weeks later, the nurse practitioner suggested I needed to do a better job of managing what I eat. What could she do to help? I know what I am supposed to do, I say…don’t we all? Make better choices. Specifically, make choices and don’t eat mindlessly which is so much easier and…well…fun. So I pulled out the right cookbooks and made grocery lists and reminded myself that I can like to cook like this. It’ll be fine. I can do this. And then I drove to the store listening to an audiobook that seemed to mention in every other sentence some sort of food that is no longer on my list. It’s a new Adventure in Cooking and I think I may need a bit of an attitude adjustment.
In the Time of the ’Rona & Other Observations Part VI &
Miscellaneous Observations
I would love to think this would be a wrap up of the pandemic editions of the PNewS but I can’t go there quite yet. I am very confused by what is “right” now—masks, no masks, how many people in a group is too many. I walk inside places tentatively and ask what the protocol is, or find myself gasping when I forget to ask. Susan thinks it is a good thing that we are off balance, that it provides us an opportunity to experience the world as others often do.
My social skills which weren’t great are worse now. My heart literally aches when I leave Roger the dog—we have spent so much time together. Perhaps it will get easier, perhaps some day I will forget. We continue to live in interesting times.
• In my next life, I hope they have figured out batteries better. I think it’s a wasteful underdeveloped technology.
“The sun loved the earth too much to burn it up.” The Removed by Brandon Hobson
Haiku for Summer
Temps are heating up
Fruit is ripe, market’s bursting
Thank god for the dog
PNewL PNewS
Volume 29 Issue 1 “All the pnews that phits.” okay April 2021—bring it on
In the Time of the ’Rona & Other Observations Part V:
A tisket a tasket I’m making lots of baskets...
I have taken two basketmaking classes and have made around ten baskets (including two in the classes). It is fun to start a new hobby at this stage. It is even more fun to get to the part in the learning process when I have a better understanding of how to fix my mistakes and hopefully make fewer.
The difference between this craft and some of my other favorites is that finishing a project is in the single-digit number of hours—even if they are stretched over several weeks or months. It is appealing to be able to finish something in a day if I want to (the adult onset ADD is a problem and sometimes I can’t focus on one thing for that long except in a class). It beats the weeks or more often months of a sweater or a quilt—well, maybe it doesn’t beat it, but it provides an alternative, and it’s practically instant gratification in completing something. Not bad for last minute gifts either.
Another thing that is kind of nice is if basket recipients don’t need-care-want the basket, they could put it in the compost and it would be absorbed soon. The travel necessary for the reed, much of which comes from Indonesia I believe, to get to me is troubling but maybe I will get to the point of making baskets out of some of these local vines that are choking my yard. It’s an aspiration.
Over the last few days, I have done the finishing work of several. The top edge is something I am not good at—they take practice and I have middling results. I put on an audiobook (Anxious People by Frederick Backman) and got to work.
Last fall, I bought all of the supplies from a woman who was giving up basketmaking. (Am I repeating myself? It happens.) I don’t blame her—it takes up a boatload of room, but since no one comes in the house any more the huge boxes of supplies are everywhere (including the guest bathtub) and I am pretty much okay with that (though I am pondering how I could make this more manageable). For now, it’s great because I tend to have everything I need. Just go to one of the boxes…
As I was lashing on the top bits (still working on the terminology), I was noting when the reed was not wet enough or I’d used a heavier reed which probably wasn’t meant to be doing the job I’d used it for. Make a mental note. The small baskets will be mini Easter baskets and I will explain they were for practice and by next time, they will be tidier.
The twill market basket makes me laugh each time I look at it. As I wove it, I kept getting screwed up on the twill design when it came to the handle, under two over two but the handle…how many is that? so I would come off the handle and it’s very messy but by the corner I had it back on course—so only a quarter of it is a mess! It’s a pleasure sometimes not being a perfectionist. As I started preparing the top edge I thought, I never have to make a basket that is this mistake-filled again. And no basketmaker/author should suggest this is a beginners project…but it is a fine container for something and it will make me chuckle when I see it, sadly rim-free because why bother, with it’s wonky twill weave.
Miscellaneous Observations
Haiku for Spring
Spring and light are here
The weeds are growing, bugs too
Thank god for the dog
All stories are long stories if you tell them from the start. Anxious People, Fredrik Backman
PNewL PNewS
Volume 28 Issue 4 “All the pnews that phits.” February 2021
In the Time of the ’Rona & Other Observations Part IV:
Well, that wasn’t what I expected…
As Roger and I were walking a while back, I thought Well, that wasn’t what I expected…. Then I thought that would be a good title for a piece in the final issue of 2020. And so here it is….and though it is early 2021, it’s still a lot like 2020 so I’m sticking with it.
2020 has been so much of the unexpected, along with a lot of daily expected stuff day after day. You know. Early 2021 is keeping pace with the unexpected of 2020, and I for one would be okay if 2021 broke free and went down a different path but just saying that makes me a little nervous. It could be a wilder and crazier path and where would we be then? Hoping and praying that 2022 would be more manageable? Onward…
Zarife11:37 AM
equipment failure - a cessation of normal operation; "there was a power breakdown" breakdown. failure - an event that does not accomplish its intended purpose; "the surprise party was a complete failure"
She set up a repair appointment for the following day that meant I had to be home from 8-5. When I woke up the next morning, the phone was working. No one ever contacted me.
It is summer, I think
time is weird—fast, slow at once
Thank god for the dog
Am sick of “this time”
My privilege is showing
Thank god for the dog
What day is it now?
Soon through January? oy
Thank god for the dog
Two quotes…because I like them and it’s been a while.
“If moving through your life you find yourself lost, go back to the last place where you knew who you were and what you were doing and start from there.” Bernice Johnson Reagon
“I loved Rebecca Solnit’s line, ‘Privilege is a landscape as level as the Andes.’ And I think, for the most part, all of our presidents are dealing in privileged landscapes, not vulnerable ones.” Terry Tempest Williams
PS I bought a new computer and there are some things I don’t quite know how to do so this looks a little different and I am not going to figure out before I put this out…hopefully by next time…