Fantasy Cooking

True to my “to do when retired list,” I have been watching the food channel every day. One of my favorite celebrity chefs is Sandra Lee who hosts a show called “Semi-Homemade Cooking with Sandra Lee.” She is so over the top with foo foo that even I can hardly believe it. She is youngish, blonde, articulate, and very pretty. She is always dressed impeccably in stylish clothes, ranging from tracksuits to frilly blouses and dresses. But, here’s the kicker. Whatever color she is wearing, the kitchen is decorated in the same color. It must cost a trillion dollars to produce her show because the set changes for every episode. The blinds on the window, the dishes on the shelves, the small appliances such her mixer and blender, pots and pans, even the light fixtures, are the same color as her outfit. She usually has a beautiful floral arrangement in a color that matches. Today she had on white, so everything in her kitchen was white. She was even cooking and baking white foods! I cringed every time she turned on the blender or poured something into a bowl, expecting her to spatter something on that white outfit, but somehow she didn’t. Yesterday, she had on pink, so everything in the kitchen was a different shade of pink. Her Christmas show was all red and white. Halloween was all orange and rusts. Even so, with all that matchy-matchy going on, her recipes are really good and her decorating ideas and cooking tips are very helpful. She is enthusiastic, but not gratingly so; and she is not a dumb blonde in any sense of the term. She presents a fantasy-cooking world, with just enough usefulness to enable you to take her seriously.

Long Time, No Blog

I haven't posted anything since August! Lost my cyber voice, I guess.

I managed to break my foot trick-or-treating with my grandkids on Halloween. I'm not a very good patient. I am supposed to wear this moon boot thingy, that has about 100 velcro straps, but sometimes I just can't stand the damned thing. The doc said if I was 18, my foot would have healed in as little as three weeks. But, since I just had my 66th birthday yesterday, it's going to take a little longer. I told the doc if I was 18, I wouldn't have fallen off the sidewalk and broken my foot in the first place!

We started a kitchen and bathroom remodel. I would say it is about one-third done. The new kitchen counter tops and the shower walls and sink have been installed. Next will be the installation of the kitchen back splash, new flooring, and shower door. Dan is aiming to have it all done so I can have a birthday party for my granddaughter who turns three on the 20th. He always works better when there is a huge, looming deadline over him. He will probably be setting in the toilet just as the family arrives for the party.

When Dan and I got married, we wanted to have the ceremony in our backyard. But, it wasn't landscaped, not even grass. So, you guessed it, Dan started work on it about three weeks before the wedding. He was shoving in the last railroad tie in the terraced garden around the patio about two hours before the wedding. Then he conked out on the living room couch where he remained until the caterers arrived. He rushed up to the bathroom to get ready just as the guests were starting to arrive.

Yeah, huge looming deadlines.

27th Wedding Anniversary

Everyone said it wouldn't last. In 1980, when Dan and I met in a divorce adjustment class at the local community college in Denver, all the other participants sat back and shook their heads when we hit it off so well. Had to flame out in a few weeks, if not days, they said. Well, over the years there have been a lot of flareups, but somehow we are still together. Today is our 27th wedding anniversary. We always say it's working because the universe put us together to save two other people who could have ended up with us. Also, now we sleep in separate rooms because we both snore.

I wish we could live long enough to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary, but we most likely won't make that. If we did, the kids would have to spoon the cake and ice cream into our mouths and wipe the dribble off our chins. They'd have to keep reminding us who we are and probably who they are. Maybe one of these times, I will throw an anniversary party and just pretend it's our 50th. Dan says it seems that long anyway.

So here's to that woman of the 1980's (me) who called and asked that cute guy out all those years ago and to the guy who accepted (Dan), blithely unaware of what he was getting into.

I love you, my hunny! Happy anniversary.

Speaking in Tongues

I have never really understood what "speaking in tongues" means until this afternoon when my husband started doing so. After a trip to Costco to purchase a TV for my bedroom, we found when we got it home that it is really too big for the room. That caused Dan to collapse in a puddle and start blathering. It was a good ten minutes before he started to use English again. Teddy and I both hid under the bed while this was going on. However, I must say Dan never articulated so well how he felt about something before.

So that started a frenzy of musical TVs in our house. The new TV went to Dan's bedroom, that TV came out to the family room, the family room TV, which was just resurrected from storage yesterday, is probably going back. We will be back to Costco tomorrow to get a new TV for me, but in the meantime, the tiny little TV from the kitchen counter was moved to my bedroom.

I know, for only two people, we are way over the legal limit for TVs per household. We probably should join a group for addicted TV watchers. Yeah, sure, right after I watch CSI Miami, Saving Grace, Drop Dead Diva, old Maverick reruns...

Saving Grace

WTF!!?? Earl's an angel! Why couldn't he find Grace last night? As in Grace Hanadarko, played by Holly Hunter on "Saving Grace." Grace is an Oklahoma City police detective who is totally fearless, but always just a bit afraid. She sees an angel named Earl, played by Leon Rippy, a good ole southern boy, who is doing his best to help Grace along in life. God appears to Earl as huge dog, an English bulldog, I think, Anyway, last night, when Grace was taken hostage by a childhood friend, off his meds, who proceeds to tattoo a pair of wings on her back, Earl couldn't find where Grace was being held. OK, I know, you have to suspend disbelief while watching this kind of show, but I just can't suspend the need for consistency. Earl has taken Grace to the Grand Canyon where they stood on top of one of the inaccessible rock formations. He has performed miracles for her before. So, he couldn't find her!!?? He rallied a team of angels to help him, but in the end, it was Grace's fellow cops who figured out where she was and rescued her.

I love all the cop shows, NCIS, CSI Miami, Law and Order-SVU, etc., but there is one thing that bugs me in all of them. The women cops, detectives, medical examiners, all wear high heels, skin tight silk pants, and skimpy little tank tops to crime scenes with their long hair streaming all lose. I couldn't believe it on one episode when Calleigh (on CSI Miami) wore spike heeled boots as she searched for evidence at a crime scene in the Everglades. Out in the bug infested swamp, in the scorching sun, she had on a teensy white (white?!) short sleeved frilly little blouse. Seriously? Yeah, I know, sex sells, but it is really annoying women are portrayed that way.

Another thing that all the characters do on crime shows is pick up the most horrible, grisly piece of evidence, something dripping slime and blood and hold it a half inch from their face, at or above eye level, and peer at it with their mouths open. Holy crap! That's just stupid!

Back to the skimpy clothing women characters wear on TV, it was always so inconsistent that the witches on "Charmed," which takes place in San Francisco, also always wore skimpy little outfits—short skirts, frilly sleeveless tops, huge high heels. If you have ever been to SF, you know you have to bundle up! It's cold there! Even in the summer time. Especially in the summer time. Like Mark Twain said, the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco. Also, on the show, SF is always sunny and windless. Ha! the wind in SF will knock you off your feet at times. And, you cannot wear high heels in SF and be able to walk around the hilly streets. Hmmm, yeah, maybe they had cast a spell to ward off the cold and make their shoes comfy.

OK, have to go. I need to get my cat his own cup of coffee since he just dipped his paw into my cup to get swig of it.

The Honey-Do Lists

Dan is anxiously awaiting for my retirement to begin because he realizes how much he has needed adult supervision. And, he is especially looking forward to the honey-do lists, so he doesn't wander aimlessly around the house. As a computer science professor, he teaches four nights a week, so he is at home all day with nothing to do except play his stupid computer game, polish and shine his Corvette, and nap. He yammers about lesson plans, grading and reading papers, dealing with students, in addition to his work with the faculty union, but I’m not so sure about all that.

I think the first thing on his honey-do list is to clean out his office. He has the very first book published listing websites on the Internet, hundreds of those old 3x3 floppy disks (why do we continue to call them “floppies” when they were really very rigid?), several manuals for out-dated computer applications, stacks and stacks of papers (he files vertically), dead computers and monitors, file cabinet drawers full of ancient invoices and cancelled checks. But, every time I bring up cleaning his office, he starts whimpering and goes fetal.

As I left the house this morning, Dan was explaining to the cat that this was their last day of solitude. "Mommy will be home with us every day, all day from now on, Teddy." The cat's eyes got huge as if to say "What?! I won't have the bed all to myself!? Or the couch?" Dan said "Yeah, my one and your nine lives are over as we know them." Well! I was going to cook gourmet meals and make special kitty treats, but I'm not so sure about that now either.

I don't have much to do today here at work, so I'll just continue to work on the honey-do lists.

Packing Up My Office

Dan is coming this afternoon to help pack up and take home the personal possessions I have collected in my office since starting this job in January 2003. I have been taking things home gradually, so it is looking really bare.

It was very hard to take down the collage of grandbabies photos on my door, but I'll find places at home to create more. All that is left are all the binders containing my projects and tasks. I'm the queen of binders. If I get more than two or three pieces of paper on a project, I create a binder for it. I have two more bookshelves in my office than most people in this building because of my thing for binders.

Someone asked if I was feeling nervous about retiring. It seemed like a strange thing to ask. Excited and relieved more accurately describes how I feel. I know it won't really sink in for several weeks that I don't have a job anymore. People have said I will get bored, which might happen, but I don't think so for quite awhile.

I have turned in my keys, my CSU Stanislaus email address will close tomorrow, and my parking permit runs out July 1, so the ties are slowly being cut. I will miss my boss and coworkers, but otherwise, I feel no regrets about starting this new phase in my life. (Ha! Next blog will be about how Dan feels about it :>)!

Mulch vs. Rock

So, yesterday was stressful because my hubby and I disagreed on finishing off the backyard with mulch or to go for a complete change and use rock. Since I want the backyard finished by the 4th (having a family BBQ that day,) I wanted mulch, especially since we have half of it already done in mulch. Also, none of us could handle putting in rock, especially my Hubby, so I won. Hubby pouted and hardly spoke the whole time we were at Home Depot purchasing the mulch and trim stuff. Then he really put on his hair shirt when he heaved 24 bags of mulch into the back of the Durango. Poor thing, its tires were nearly flat, it was so weighed down. The Durango, not Hubby. Hubby had to take a nap when we got home! Well, so did I, to de-stress. The wine came later.

Today, I plan to start the mulching project. Hubby got out all the implements I will need and gave me instructions on how to put down the edging stuff. If I get this task finished without crippling myself, it will be a miracle. My arthritic knee is twinging just at the thought.

Tomorrow, I will go out to select shrubs and plants. There are so many I would love to have, but I think I will get some horsetail bamboo (I know, it spreads, but I'll contain it) and other ornamental grasses, jasmine, gardenias, and succulents. These are things which have survived well in other parts of my yard, so I have high hopes for them in the backyard.

We have lived in this house since November 1992 and we are just now finishing the back yard. No hurrying to get anything done at our place!

Fashion Trends

I fully realize that fashion trends are geared toward the young and thin, but when the majority of the population is verging on obesity, there are some fads that I have to complain about.

First on my list are low rise pants. I did the hip-hugger thing back in the 60's and 70's. It wasn't a good look then, and it isn't now. Women who go around with their muffin tops flowing over the waistbands of those kinds of pants are just disgusting. Don't they have full length mirrors? This trend makes it hard for people, who know better than to wear low rise pants, to find pants that fit at the waistline. I don't care if you call them mom jeans, they look better!

Next are scarves! The long fringy kind that wrap around the neck four or five times. In California! In 110 degree summer weather! Are they nuts? Of course, this look is shown on teeny little women in Daisy Duke shorts and tank tops who probably never break a sweat. My hair never dries, I get so hot in the summer. If I had to wear a scarf in that kind of weather, I'd hang myself with it.

Third is thong underwear. Now this is where my daughters and I really disagree. They love thong underwear, but I just can't understand them. I spent years trying to find panties that won't ride up into my crack, but they are actually paying for the ones that do? They say my panties are industrial strength underwear, but you just can't beat those Skimp Skamps by Bali. They do not ride up, there is no panty line, and they are smooth and comfy.

And finally, hoodies. I HATE hoodies. One cannot find a jacket without a stupid hood attached, so I cut them off. Much better that way. No one ever wears the hood up on their head except the uni-bomber, so what is the point? It's just another layer of material to add to the heat index. I saw a skinny little student yesterday in a hoodie, with a scarf around her neck, low rise shorts with her belly hanging out, a high rise top which barely covered her boobs, and flip flops. Stylish.

Of course, this rant on fashion trends is driven by menopause that never seems to end. I get hot flashes that could energize the entire Central Valley. My poor husband is actually an eating disordered fashion model in disguise, so he is always cold. I turn on all the fans, kick the A/C down to 70, and he huddles in his office with a space heater and three pairs of socks on. Maybe I should get him some hoodies and a couple long fringy scarves.

I am Finally Retiring

I took a few years out when my kids were small, but I have worked every day since high school, so it is with great excitement that I will finally retire at the end of this month. I have a million housy projects I want to do, books to read, movies to watch, and two gloriously sweet and smart grandchildren to spoil. Oh, yes, I want to sleep in! Getting up in the mornings has become so hard for me. I've always been a morning person, but in the last few years, aging has changed that.

Since I announced my retirement about six months ago, I've been counting how many Mondays I have left. As of today, I have just one more. That sounds very good. Of course, I'm very superstitious. I'm worried I'll get hit by a train coming home on June 30 and not live to enjoy my retirement. I had a dream last night that HR came to tell me that as of today I had to transfer to the Library. I was told the job I've held for that last six and a half years in the College of Business Dean's office was illegal! That I should never have been given the job! Boy, did I have a snit over that! I guess my brain is having trouble believing I really won't have to go to work anymore. As my husband says, I'm FIIGMO! (Yeah, you have to have been in the Air Force to understand that one. Something about "...I got my orders!") So, let 'em just try to transfer me to the Library.