My family in New Orleans

Been unpacking all day, going through bills, doing laundry, trying to remember what I was doing two weeks ago before I went on vacation.

I've also been glued to the TV to follow the progress of the hurricane. My family in New Orleans suffered so badly from Hurricane Katrina, and I can't believe that we are here again three years later. This time though, I have Facebook, and my cousin Susan Elizabeth is posting updates on the family's evacuation there. With Katrina, I only had a phone!

My aunt Susan did send me an e-mail yesterday saying they wouldn't evacuate if they didn't have to. But they had to, and now Susan Elizabeth, her daughter, reports that they are stuck on the highway outside the city in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

My aunt Susan told me in her e-mail that she thought this hurricane was going to finish New Orleans.

Everyone so patiently repaired their houses, lived in FEMA trailers, put up with so much -- my aunt told me they didn't even have regular mail deliveries for almost two years after Katrina -- and now it happens again. Who will come back and rebuild yet another time?

It's too hot for good manners

It was very warm in Spain. We enjoyed it so much after the chilliness of the English summer. I was reading a new book by Rose Tremain called The Road Home, and she described perfectly what I've been trying to say when I whine about the English weather. Two Russian characters are going to England. One says: "It's going to be cold in England. Are you prepared for that?"

"In England, I've been told, some winters never quite depart."

"You mean there's no summer?"

"There is summer. But you don't feel it in your blood."

That's what I've wanted to convey in the blog but didn't know how. You want to feel like you've had a summer in your bones and often you don't here.

On the other hand, I see that I've conveniently forgotten how hard summers are in Mississippi -- just non-stop heat and humidity. You step outside the door and are drenched with sweat.

Mallorca doesn't have the humidity so it's a very pleasant heat. It did get so hot the other day though that my son explained that he was being rude to us because "it's too hot for good manners."

I'm back

We just got back from Mallorca, an island in Spain. You will have to put up with me talking about my trip for a little while, sorry. Here's a photo of us under a big palm tree at the house we rented.

A few days after we went through the Madrid airport, a plane crashed there, killing 153 people. It was shocking and very sad to be in Spain at that time. So many children were on that flight; how could such a thing have happened? When we flew from Palma to Madrid today, many people on the plane clapped when it landed -- plane crashes were much on our minds.

When we took off from Madrid on the flight to London later, everyone's attention was riveted to the site of the crash -- a big black spot on the ground below. It was as if we were all holding our breaths until we got past that spot.

One thing I love about visiting Europe are the churches and religious sites. I enjoy all the icons of religion much more now that I don't worry about whether it's true or not.

I took this photo in the cathedral in Palma:

On another note:

I'm not a religious person but if I was I would pray for my relatives in New Orleans. I am so worried about Gustav.

A good joke

A 54 year old woman had a heart attack and was taken to the hospital. While on the operating table she had a near death experience. Seeing God she asked 'Is my time up' God said, 'No, you have another 43 years, 2 months and 8 days to live.'

Upon recovery, the woman decided to stay in the hospital and have a face-lift, liposuction, breast implants and a tummy tuck. She even had someone come in and change her hair colour and brighten her teeth!

Since she had so much more time to live, she figured she might as well make the most of it.

After her last operation, she was released from the hospital.

While crossing the street on her way home, she was killed by an ambulance.

Arriving in front of God, she demanded, 'I thought you said I had another 43 years Why didn't you pull me from out of the path of the ambulance?'

God replied: 'I didn't bloody recognize you.'

Tom Paine quote

This quote from Tom Paine gave me pause. I think I am one of those people who can moderate my principles to make life easier for myself....

A thing moderately good is not so good as it ought to be. Moderation in temper is always a virtue; but moderation in principle is always a vice.

Thomas Paine

Shub Prabhat

This quirk I have of wanting to learn a little of the language of my colleagues so I can say Good Morning and Goodbye each day can have its drawbacks.

Today I said Shub Prabhat (Good Morning in Hindi) to a guy in the office from Pakistan. He looked at me like I was insane. I repeated what I said and still he stared. Then he asked an Indian co-worker to translate what I was trying to say.

It turns out Shub means 'night' in Urdu so he thought I was a crazy woman standing there saying Night to him at 8:30 in the morning.

Don Giovanni

My daughter Katie has a paper round and tells me how different stories are reported in the papers, from the lowest of the low tabloid (the Sun) to the upper-crust Daily Telegraph. Now the Sun has decided to send its readers to the Royal Opera House's production of Don Giovanni in September, and the quality papers are sneering. This is from the Times:

"Even by the standards of The Sun it’s a hell of a story. A philandering aristocrat tries to rape a girl before murdering her father. And not only does he escape justice at first but he also boasts of the 100 lovers he has had in France and the 1,003 women he has ravished in Spain.

This is the story of Don Giovanni – or, as The Sun might have put it, “Dead dad dooms dirty Don”.

In a departure from its usual cut-price holiday promotions, the paper is offering readers a bargain night at the opera to see Dirty Don in action. And in case any Sun reader might think opera is, well, a bit poncey, the paper is reassuring. “Most operas are dirtier than Amy Winehouse’s beehive, riper than a full-on effing rant by Gordon Ramsay and more violent than a Tarantino bloodfest,” said Derek Brown, a reporter. “It’s full of sex, violence and great singing.”

The paper also noted a degree of scepticism about the offer from a rival newspaper. “Not everyone’s happy we’ve secured the tickets for this much-in-demand first night of Don Giovanni,” said Brown. “Elitist broadsheet The Guardian wrote an article last week sneering at the fact that low Sun readers should dare to grace the Royal Opera House.

“Blow them. They can have a night in with their mung bean sandwiches and discuss existentialist feminism. We’ll be down the opera having a knees-up.”

Sweet Potato soup

Thank you, Lisa, for this recipe. It looks delicious and healthy, and I am going to try it when I'm back from my vacation. Sounds perfect for September dinners.

Sweet Potato Soup

Heat 2T chili oil (we use a bit more b/c all of us like the heat), and sauté chopped leeks in it for five minutes (white and pale green parts only - about 2 avg leeks, or one large one). Add one bag frozen sweet potatoes (Waitrose has the right size bag in their freezer section - if one wanted to use fresh, do about three large sweet potatoes, peeled and diced) and sauté for another 3 minutes. Then add 900 ml vegetable stock and boil until potatoes are tender (5 mins for the frozen, not sure how long for fresh, b/c I love the frozen shortcut). After potatoes are tender tip in one tin of rinsed chickpeas and cook 5 more minutes. Then puree in batches or use an immersion blender.

Serve over brown rice (Waitrose also do plain brown rice in the freezer in little bags - another shortcut - they make this a very quick and easy meal) and garnish with any or all of: squares of halloumi cheese sautéed in more hot oil, toasted seeds (I use flax, hemp, sunflower mix from the local health food store), or just a plain drizzle of hot oil. I buy several leeks at a time and chop up extras and freeze in ziplocks in the right amount so that the next time I make the soup, the leeks, sw. potato and rice all come from the freezer - it takes like 15-20 minutes to make this dinner then!

Good bye - Poka - Пока

Nokia employs people from all over the world. I work with a couple of Russians so am trying to learn some words to say to them. I wanted to say Goodbye at the end of the work day, and Vladimir said to say Пока -- Poka.

I said it like 'poker.' Vlad said no, there is an emphasis on the last syllable. I just couldn't say it correctly so he sent me this YouTube video. They sing the word so many times that I finally get how to say it!

I want to buy this house

I've always loved Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier -- now the house where they 'canoodled' in 1939 is up for sale. Here are some pics and a description:

A Victorian house outside New York City where Vivien Leigh reportedly canoodled with her future husband, Laurence Olivier, during rehearsals for “Gone With the Wind” is for sale.

The “Captain Coates House,” as it is known, was built in 1860 in Snedens Landing, a quiet enclave about 20 minutes from Manhattan, where such marquee names as Bill Murray, Al Pacino and Mikhail Baryshnikov reportedly own homes. The house is described as “Carpenter Gothic Victorian” and it was built by a member of the original Sneden family, which operated the local ferry that gave the community its name, pre-Revolutionary War.

According to local lore, Vivien Leigh rented the Coates house while she was preparing to shoot the epic Civil War film. Olivier, the story goes, was learning to fly at a nearby airfield and would occasionally buzz the house in a private plane, says Richard Ellis of Ellis Sotheby’s International Realty, the listing agent for the property.

The house, which is on the register of historic homes, is located a short walk from the Hudson River on a heavily-wooded 2/3 of an acre. Priced at $1,995 million (about €1.3 million), it is chock full of old colonial touches, including high gable roofing and “gingerbread” trim, according to the listing.

Some brands we must try

And I love this photo:

9 words women use

Thanks to my friend Kumar for this gem:

9 words women use

Fine
This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

Five Minutes
If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

Nothing
This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

Go Ahead
This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

Loud Sigh
This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of nothing.)

That's Okay
This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

Thanks
A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome.

Whatever
Is a women's way of saying F@!K YOU!

Don't worry about it, I got it
Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking, 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to #3.

Spa customers hooked on fish pedicures

Thanks to BWJ for this interesting post. I would definitely try a fish pedicure as I have terrible feet.

"Fish pedicures are creating something of a splash in the D.C. area, where a northern Virginia spa has been offering them for the past four months. John Ho, who runs the Yvonne Hair and Nails salon with his wife, Yvonne Le, said 5,000 people have taken the plunge so far.

He said he wanted to come up with something unique while finding a replacement for pedicures that use razors to scrape off dead skin. The razors have fallen out of favor with state regulators because of concerns about whether they’re sanitary.

Ho was skeptical at first about the fish, which are called garra rufa but typically known as doctor fish. They were first used in Turkey and have become popular in some Asian countries. Ho said the hot water in which the fish thrive doesn’t support much plant or aquatic life, so they learned to feed on whatever food sources were available — including dead, flaking skin. They leave live skin alone because, without teeth, they can’t bite it off.

“I know people were a little intimidated at first,” Ho said. “But I just said, ’Let’s give it a shot.’ “

Customers were quickly hooked.

First time customer Kanin Reese, 32, of Washington, described the tingling sensation created by the toothless fish: “It kind of feels like your foot’s asleep,” she said.

The spa has more than 1,000 fish, with about 100 in each individual pedicure tank at any given time."

Gazpacho recipe

Because I should be in Spain when you read this post, I have to share a recipe for gazpacho -- the chilled tomato soup that is so delicious.

Traditional Gazpacho

This basic version of gazpacho is the one travelers would be most likely to encounter when touring through Spain. The fact that this soup is commonly found, however, in no way renders it "ordinary".

One taste of this chilled gazpacho and you will be instantly transported to a land of whitewashed walls, red-tiled roofs, and a golden sun...

Diners: 4
Preparation time: 30 min.
Difficulty: easy

Ingredients

10 oz of bread
21 oz. of tomato
2 cloves of garlic
2 onions
2 red and green peppers
1 cucumber (optional)
7 tablespoons of oil
2 tablespoons of vinegar
1 1/2 tablespoon of water
Cumin (optional)

Preparation

In a big mortar mash the cumin, the garlic and the soaked bread, in a plastic bowl mix the chopped onion, the chopped tomato, the oil, the vinegar, the salt and the contents of the mortar, mash it with the mixer and add very cold water to mix everything. Add salt and strain it. Keep it in the fridge until served.

Serve with the tomato, the cucumber, the pepper and the toasted bread cut to dices.

Dennis Hopper, famous among Russians

I saw Dennis Hopper on the Daily Show last week, and he was saying how admired he is in Russia. Apparently he had an exhibit at the
Hermitage museum of his work, and a curator said to him, "In St. Petersburg, you are more famous for your art than for your movies." (Dennis H starred in classic films such as Easy Rider, etc.)

Hopper went on this subject for a bit saying that Russians had never been able to see his classic films until the fall of Communism. Well, the way he talked, you'd think he was as well known as Lenin in the former USSR.

I was skeptical. "I'll bet nobody knows who he is there," I said to my husband. "It's just more Hollywood egotism at work here. I'm going to ask Vladimir and the two other Russians at the office tomorrow if they know who he is, and we'll just see."

I saw Vladimir first. "Do you know who Dennis Hopper is?"

He looked confused. "Ho-PER?" he asked, trying to clarify the name. Now Vlad is a St. Petersburg native, so if anyone would know about Hopper's famed exhibition there, he would.

I said the name a couple more times. No response. "Ha! I knew it," I said. "You have no idea who he is."

When Evengia and Andre came in later, I spoke the name Dennis Hopper to see the excitement that came into their eyes when I mentioned such an artistic movie star.

But nothing.

The latest thinking in face lifts

I guess this is a female-only post?? When you get a bit older, you start contemplating getting help in your quest to hold back the years. I have been too timid to do anything radical but love to watch others who take the knife plunge so I can see if it works or what goes wrong, etc. One woman I know doesn't have a chin anymore but a promontory (definition: high land jutting out into the sea or a lake). Her jawline has been pulled back so many times and so tightly that there's nothing fleshy left, just a chin bone. It looks freakish.

Anyway, there's a wonderful article in New York Magazine about the latest thinking in plastic surgery, along with some swell photos so take a look when you have time. I thought the article was so interesting.

Click here to read it.

Why are farmers conservative?

Today's guest post is from my husband Mel.

"Why are farmers so conservative?

This is a question my son Mikey asked a couple of months ago and I struggled to articulate a convincing answer. But yesterday I was reading "Collapse" by Jared Diamond, which had some interesting things to say about the Vikings in medieval Iceland and Greenland and which might provide some sort of explanation.

Diamond explains how trying to exist in marginal conditions leads to an excessively cautious outlook. If you're struggling to survive, not only are you probably unreceptive to trying anything new, but the consequences are likely to be catastrophic should any of these new ideas produce unintended results:

'The ultimate reason behind the conservative outlook of the Greenlanders may have been the same reason to which my Icelandic friends attribute their own society's conservatism. That is, even more than the Icelanders, the Greenlanders found themselves in a very difficult environment. While they succeeded in developing an economy that let them survive for many generations, they found that variations in the economy were much more likely to prove disastrous than advantageous. That was good reason to be conservative." (Collapse, p240).

As most of us realise, even in the 21st century farming can be quite a difficult life. It involves hard work and long hours, and a run of crop failures can wipe you out completely. This would make the most progressive of us quite risk averse and if we managed to find ways of doing things that assured our continued existence (prosperity, even), we'd be likly to stick with them. This attitude might well affect our response to new ideas, whether economic or political, which tend to come from people rather different from ourselves, usually from urban environments."

See ya

OK, I'm going in a couple of hours. I will be thinking of how many wonderful things are going on in my life while I'm gone, and, of course, gratitude for my blogger friends will be at the top of the list. Thanks for all your comments and e-mails. You've helped me through a lot of stuff -- thank you.

I hope I don't have the same experience today as I did the last time I went through Madrid airport. There are very few toilets for women so the lines to get in are very long. I was waiting and waiting for a cubicle and thought I saw one that might be free. I pushed the door in and there was a woman doing lines of coke on the actual toilet seat. I was aghast. She look horrified and shut the door. I did my business finally then left to tell my family.

I was telling them and saying should I do something? What do I do with my terrible Spanish? Go find some airport officer and say "Amigo! Mujer tiene coke!" or something similar? While I was telling my family, she walked past with a group of friends and eyed me nervously. As a woman, I can tell you that what passed through my mind was 'well, I'd be as thin as you too if I did coke.'

It always comes back to weight gain/loss with me.

Incarcerating pregnant teenagers

My mother was a social worker and especially loved her job when we lived in Natchez, Mississippi, and she worked in an unwed mothers' home (called Kings' Daughters). It's so interesting to me how times have changed. In those days, parents sent their unmarried teenaged daughters to a maternity home to have the baby so no one would know she'd been pregnant. When the baby was born, the mother would sign adoption papers and the baby was taken away. My mother used to say that the girls who held their babies after they were born suffered the most when they gave them up. There was such a stigma about unmarried women having babies in those days.

Now times have changed so much that these homes for unwed mothers are viewed as prisons for teenagers forced to give up their babies against their will. I saw a website to help women who have been in these types of maternity homes find each other. My mother would have been horrified to see the title of the website:

This is for Women who are searching for others who were incarcerated in the same Maternity Home at the same time.

Incarcerated!

I found the name of a woman whose mother had been in the home my mother worked in and wrote her. She wrote back:

"I have done some research on the home and have been there a few times. I have letters that my Mother and Grandmother wrote to each other while she stayed there and I can tell you ... my Mom loved your Mother and her help was invaluable. She even had my Grandmother bring her some pecans from home. I tried to find some information on your Mom but didn't have much luck. Maybe you can let me know more about her. Regretfully, I wished I could have found here sooner. Just so you will know, I was not put up for adoption, my Mom, with much prayer and guidance from people like your Mother decided to raise me."

This all happened two weeks after my mother died. She would have loved to have known about this woman but it just happened too late.

Things are blooming

I haven't been able to spend a lot of time outdoors this summer as it has been chilly and rainy most of the time. I went outside after work to put something in the shed, and I noticed some exciting things have been happening in my garden.

The night before my mother died in March, I was at a birthday bash in London that my friends gave for me. I tried to put it out of my mind that my mother was dying because I knew she would want me to have a nice birthday celebration. Among the presents I got that night, Karen Firbank gave me a little plant called an escallonia (everything the girls gave me that night started with an E for my name so I also ended up with a lot of embarrassing Edible sex items too).

Anyway, I planted the escallonia at about 3 in the afternoon the next day, which I later found out was about the time my mother died. You can imagine how desperate I was to make sure this plant thrived.

Tonight I went out and it was blooming. It made me happy.


Another thing that's blooming is Oniony. My daughter named everything in her childhood by adding a 'y' to what it was -- apple-y, straw-y, etc.-- so when she suggested I plant an onion outside that was going bad in the fridge, I did, and we called it oniony. Oniony has only been in the ground a few weeks, but he's loving being planted outside a lot more than being in the fridge waiting to be eaten. Here he is:


We also have Oakie -- he was an acorn that got stuck in my shed, and when I pulled some pots out a few weeks ago, there was a little oak tree. I'll spare you a photo of him now because he is just a tiny thing. But I have big plans for him. Katie put some apple seeds around him that are already sprouting too.

I need a vacation

Only a day to go before I can get out of rainy chilly England for two weeks of sun and fun in Spain. Here's where we will be staying:




My Spanish friend Cristina has been teaching me how to order tapas so I'm almost ready to go. She also taught me how to tell someone to "shove it up their a**" just in case. :)

Another useful phrase I learned is what King Juan Carlos said to Hugo Chavez:

Por que no te callas? (Why don't you just shut up?)

Not something you expect a King to say but they loved it in Spain and now they have T-shirts saying that. Will try to find one.


Horribly, there's no Internet connection at the house so I have been trying out some functionality on the blogger where I can post in advance so it'll look like I'm posting every day but actually they were prepared earlier. Please keep commenting though, and I will try to find some wifi somewhere on the Island so I can respond.

A real job at last

This has been a good day for me because I was offered a permanent job at Nokia, after 2.5 years of working there as a contractor.

I don't know how many of you know about Life as a Contractor but I find you need nerves of steel to do it. You can have periods where you are changing jobs frequently, are out of work for longer than you planned and think that the phone will never ring again with the friendly voice of an agent with work. You never get to go on a training course, so you have to acquire the skills you need for each gig yourself in a very short time. You get paid more than permanent staff but you have no job security so get anxious each time a contract deadline approaches.

And Nokia is a great company to work for, especially with the Finnish saunas on site!
Nokia has been named to Fortune magazine's "100 Best Companies to Work For in America" list, the culmination of an employee-focused assessment of work-life issues and human resources programs and policies in companies throughout the United States.

Anyway, I decided to take the plunge and feel so relieved because I was very worried about the recession and how I would ride it out. So I accepted the offer and later in the day saw this headline and felt like maybe I'd made the right decision:

The Government has suffered a double dose of grim economic news when unemployment jumped by 60,000 and the head of the Bank of England warned the economy could suffer negative growth.

Unauthorized photos

I was talking about an ex-boyfriend last week who was a photographer in this blog, and my childhood friend BWJ went and found his website. She sent me an amusing email that said, "He's using pictures of you on his website without your permission. Sue the pants off him!" When I went to the website, I saw this photo.

I had to laugh.

A month of Happy-ness

Lisa and I were talking about this snippet of personal philosophy below that was forwarded to me. It is so sad, this woman's determined quest for happiness -- you can feel her clenched fists and jaw, her single-mindedness that nothing bad should happen or enter her thoughts during the month of August. I said to Lisa that the woman should just shoot up some heroin and be done with it if she was that desperate for nirvana in August. Lisa said she'd give me £10 if I put a note to that effect in the conference where the post originally appeared. Well, I'm too wimpy for that but I will put it up here.

"I intend for August to be a month of Abundance for me. I will create incredible abundance and Happyness starting today. I intend to stay Happy every day for the next 29 days. I will wake up Happy. I will be Happy throughout my day. I will go to bed Happy. And I am going to avoid every possible source of non-Happy that I can. So for 29 days I will likely have to do without reading the newspaper or watching the news shows. No scary movies. No watching the McCain-Obama drama. No fretting over my weight or the weather or my tomato plants that got eaten by caterpillars.

And if you send me any scary or unhappy emails, no offense, but I'll be deleting them! For 29 days I will surround myself with Happy books, Happy people, Happy activities, Happy movies. And I intend to attract extraordinary Happyness and abundance into my life over the next month (and beyond)."

Girlie post on lipstick

What was your first ever lipstick? Wasn't it thrilling to be so grown up that you could have your own tube, and not just use your mother's stuff?

I was 12, and I begged my mother to let me have my own lipstick. We went to the Five and Dime and bought a tube of Tangee lipstick -- it was oranged colored, but it didn't look that way on your lips. It was supposed to transform into the best color for you.

It was one of the most thrilling experiences I've ever had and is still so vivid to me. And my mother was still able to walk and drive so the memory is even more precious. Shortly after that, she became ill with Multiple Sclerosis so mother-and-daughter shopping trips were a thing of the past.

Tell me about your first lipstick in the comments section if you have time. I'd love to hear.

Could you survive for 12 days if you lost your job?

This makes for scary reading...

"More than a third of adults could survive financially for only 11 days if they were to lose their job or be too ill to work, according to a survey.

The finding gives a worrying insight into the lives of millions who are living on a financial tightrope. Researchers looked at how much people spend every month and how much they have in savings.

It found a massive gap between the two, which means most would be crippled by a sudden change in their circumstances -- but a shocking 36 per cent of people have less than £500 in savings to use in an emergency.

As a result, they could survive for just 11 days before their finances would implode. On average, women would be much less well prepared to cope than men. Tanya Jackson of Yorkshire Building Society, which carried out the research, said: 'In the current economic climate, this research paints an extremely alarming picture.'"

Angelina: Opting for Obama or Mad About McCain?

Thanks Elizabeth from Detroit for this hysterical post!

This is a little nerve-racking. Angelina Jolie says she still hasn't made up her mind yet on who she will vote for in the upcoming presidential election.

"I have not decided on a candidate," the actress tells Variety in a statement sent by political advisor Trevor Neilson. "I am waiting to see the commitments they will make on issues like international justice, refugees and how to address the needs of children in crisis around the world."

While certainly commendable, Angie, we do ask that you please, please hurry and let us know as soon as possible. After all, it's now less than three months before the big day, and we desperately need to know for whom we should be casting our ballot.

Peter Gicas, eonline

The truth about the Ossetia War?

A Russian friend at work sent me this YouTube video, for the Russian perspective on the fighting in Ossetia. The guy on here is a bit long-winded, but you'll get the gist of what he's saying pretty quickly.

I've amended the link from yesterday:
YouTube video

Report from Detroit

Elizabeth in Michigan sends us this gloomy summary of politics in Michigan. Sounds even worse than the people running the UK, I think!

"I live in a country headed by George Bush.
Nothing else needs to be said.

I live in a state headed by Jennifer Granholm.
Under her leadership, Michigan's economy has sunk lower and lower and lower. (A recent Michigan opinion poll put her approval rating 1 point higher than that of Bush).

And the latest tidbit - the lead story on all the national news: Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick is in jail.

Well, you can say this, I guess: This list makes for a beautiful mix of politics (Granholm is a Democrat), gender and race.

Grrrrrrrrr."

From www.bloomberg.com:

Aug. 9 (Bloomberg) -- Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick spent a night in jail. For Jim Street, a 26-year-old resident of suburban Riverview, it's another chapter in a saga that has gone on for too long.

``His time is over, man,'' Street said as he queued up for food at a Detroit Lions exhibition game against the National Football League New York Giants Aug. 7. ``If he would have resigned awhile ago, it all could have been avoided.''

Kilpatrick, a Democrat first elected in 2001, was jailed for violating terms of his bond in a perjury case by making an unauthorized business trip to Canada. The 38 year-old mayor and his former chief of staff were charged with perjury and related crimes in March for allegedly lying under oath when they denied having an affair. Both have pleaded not guilty.

Kilpatrick left prison yesterday and addressed his staff at city hall, said mayor's office spokesman James Canning. The mayor ``thanked us for our support and told us to continue with our duties for the city,'' Canning said.

Waxed to within an inch of my life

I put my life on the line yesterday and finally went to get my legs waxed. I have been too scared to have it done before but I agreed to go with my daughter to have it done in time for our vacation in a week.

I reminded my husband where our will is, and what to do for dinner in case I didn't make it back after such a traumatic event. I was still saying, "I'm scared! I'm scared!" to my daughter when the beauty therapist opened the door.

"You'll live," she assured me.

The only reason I went is because I heard about this therapist through the gravevine -- that she was the best. Apparently, one of the great waxing sins is going too slow in the removal of the wax -- it can be absolute torture.

Even with this therapist's expertise, though, getting the bikini area done was no walk in the park. And she had such a personality. As you know, wanting parts of your body to be hairless can be associated with certain types of sexual preferences -- I'm trying to be delicate here -- but oh well, let's just say that some gay guys like to be hairless so they have to go to waxing places.

My beauty therapist said clients pretend that they aren't gay or transsexual, or whatever it is they want to hide, but she can tell by what procedures they want done what their sexual orientation is. (One of her Muslim clients wants *everything* waxed off because she is supposed to be hairless according to the religion. Will have to check that out - never heard that one before.)

Another gay client insists on talking about his 'wife' all the time, even though the therapist knows there is no wife.

She also said clients put on their 'best' underwear for her -- lace, ribbons, stiff fabrics -- that she then has to move around so she can get to the areas -- my daughter and I wore old cotton things that she said are best. Isn't that amusing that her clients dress in their 'best' panties to go see her?

One of the funniest things she said is that in her entire clientele, she only has two screamers who just roar in pain when she does the waxing. One of them, she said, is a hypnotherapist who works in a maternity unit. Can't you just picture her counselling/hypnotizing women going through childbirth when she herself can't even get her legs waxed without losing it? Why can't she just put herself under for the waxing session?

His wife's intestine

Thank you for all your get-well wishes via the blog and e-mail. I have managed to turn on the computer today, because, of course, I must blog even if I find myself at death's door. (I'm from the American South where exaggeration in speech is like breathing. A woman in Vicksburg, Mississippi, got a little cold once and she said she was 'at death's doah' when people asked her how she was feeling.)

Anyway, I got to the concert at the Albert Hall last night, and it was very good. I was interested in the program notes, though, about Rachmaninov's Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini:

Legends about Paganini, the violin virtuoso, included the notion that 'he had dedicated his soul to the Evil One' and that the fourth string of his violin was made of his wife's intestine which he himself had cut out.

The conductor was Leonard Slatkin whose next job is taking over the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, so maybe our pal Elizabeth in Michigan can send us some music info on him one day. (Actually, he was music director of the BBC Proms orchestra a few years ago and there was such scandal when it turned out he'd begun an affair with a percussionist in the orchestra -- both of them married to others, of course -- her husband found their love e-mails and published them, and boy, were they embarrassing.)

Here's a sample:

From The Sunday Times September 12, 2004

“The thought of my modem inside your laptop really turns my mainframe on,” Slatkin wrote to Glennie (who he nicknamed “Shortbread”). “I’ll nibble on your bits and byte.”

Glennie, who called him “Pie”, replied: “I need your special touch all over me.”

Sick and frustrated

I'm ill so no interesting posts from me today. I dragged myself out of bed at 11:00 to find there was very little milk in the fridge. I called to my teen son, who had only got of bed recently himself, to run around the corner to the shop and buy some. "Can't," he said brusquely. "Got to meet my friends for a movie in 20 minutes."

"But I'm sick," I said. "And don't forget I gave birth to you. Can't you just run out and get a little milk for your own dear mother?"

"Nah."

I thought I'd make myself a little cinammon toast but there was no bread. My husband puts it in the freezer to keep it fresh for when we need it. But I can't defrost it in the microwave properly, so I'm always left with a loaf that is hot on the outside, and frozen solid on the inside which I then have to slice myself. So I end up with chunks of bread that can't fit into a toaster and mounting frustration. I buttered a couple of the chunks, put under the grill in the oven and sprinkled with cinammon sugar. It was good enough but really, I don't see why there can't be some sliced bread available sometimes.

I'm going back to bed now and hope I'll feel better in a few hours because I've been invited to London to a Proms concert tonight by some musician-y type people. He is a Shostakovich expert (recently did a film about him), and she is a concert pianist who plays a lot of Prokofiev. I'm supposed to meet him by the statue of Prince Albert at 6:30. Will I even get there?

Merienda -- what a great discovery

There's a lovely Spanish woman at work who is helping me prepare for our vacation in Mallorca in a couple of weeks. I try to say something in Spanish, and she laughs at the stoopid thing I've said and corrects me, which I then immediately forget. (Why do I even try?)

I was whining about late mealtimes in Spain -- they eat at 9:30 or 10:00 in the evening, and I'm ready to go to bed by then. "How can you stand to wait until 9:30 to eat?" Then she revealed that Spaniards actually eat about five meals a day -- so where I was thinking there were huge gaps between eating, she told me there's a wonderful thing called merienda at 5:00 in the afternoon that's sort of like afternoon tea here. I'd never heard of it before.

Five meals a day I can handle! Cristina, the helpful woman at work, said you start the day with these fried dough-y things that you dip in hot rich chocolate called Churros con Chocolate.

Here is the hot chocolate....

that is just waiting to have these churros dipped into it.


Cristina said these are especially good when you've been out partying all night and are just coming home in the morning. :) Then you have a little snack later in the morning and have a big lunch at 2:30.

Then comes merienda, which "can be anything from a piece of French-style bread with a piece of chocolate on top, to bread with chorizo, ham or salami...."

Then you have dinner later. Apparently Spaniards eat more than Americans but they space their eating out and walk much more. Check out the details of Spanish meals at this site: Meals in Spain.

I'm so bored

I enjoyed reading this article in the International Herald Tribune today. So it's not just us normal folk who get completely bored with our lives! How reassuring.

"Even the most fabulous, high-flying lives hit pockets of dead air, periods when the sails go slack. Movie stars get marooned in D.M.V. lines. Prime ministers sit with frozen smiles through interminable state events. Living-large rappers endure empty August afternoons, pacing the mansion, checking the refrigerator, staring idly out the window, baseball droning on the radio. Wondering: When does the mail come, exactly?

Scientists know plenty about boredom, too, though more as a result of poring through thickets of meaningless data than from studying the mental state itself. Much of the research on the topic has focused on the bad company it tends to keep, from depression and overeating to smoking and drug use.

Yet boredom is more than a mere flagging of interest or a precursor to mischief. Some experts say that people tune things out for good reasons, and that over time boredom becomes a tool for sorting information — an increasingly sensitive spam filter. In various fields including neuroscience and education, research suggests that falling into a numbed trance allows the brain to recast the outside world in ways that can be productive and creative at least as often as they are disruptive."

Read the entire article here.

The Courtneys are on another phone

I blogged yesterday about how I put an ancient photo of my great-grandparents onto my mobile phone and wondered what they would have made of that. My brother Mike read my blog then put the pic on his phone too then took a photo of his cell phone with my post with my mobile phone in the background. I thought the whole idea was pretty cool, and liked the pic so am putting it up.

That kind of communication through the blog is what I love about the whole thing. You can feel so connected with someone you rarely see instantly. Thanks Mike.

PS
Mike, I notice your phone is not made by Nokia. We can't have that. :)

I've 'AD enough

I was reading a trashy UK mag the other week -- readers send in incredible stories about how they had five kids by five different men or were sent to jail for drug dealing or anything equally lurid -- they sign their names to it, have pictures taken and get paid a couple of hundred pounds for it. One time Helen McGrath Garton, who introduced me to the relaxing joys of reading this stuff, saw an article about a women we worked with -- it was written by the irate wife of the man this woman was living with.

If you have a sensational story to tell, you can sell it here:
Cash for Your Story But send it to this blog first, of course.

Anyway, I loved this complaint from a loyal reader in this week's issue of That's Life mag:

There's nothing that annoys me more than distasteful adverts on teatime telly. Sitting down to dinner, I can't stomach all those ads for incontinence pads and thrush cream. The worst ones are those awful commercials for constipation pills. I know they are supposed to keep you regular, but the only thing regular about them is how often they appear on TV.

If these products have to be advertised, then can't they be scheduled to avoid meal times?

This is a tough problem for Diane Jones, 71, of Portslade, East Sussex. (who sort of looks like a man in her photo) I don't suppose she could eat her dinner at a table instead of on a tray table in front of the TV?

Worlds collide

This is a picture of my great-grandparents, the Courtneys, taken in the early 1900s. I liked it so much that I made it the wallpaper on my mobile phone. When I look at them on my phone now, I wonder what they would have made of it -- their photo on this thing that hadn't been invented yet when the pic was taken and put on there by a woman they would never know but who is part of them.

That's them on the phone above. Check out my lovely Chanel Fuscia nail polish -- I swiped the bottle from my daughter but she hasn't complained yet. In the background is my bottle of Peace of Mind by Origins -- it's strong peppermint stuff that you put on your temples when you are stressed and headachy -- my friend Elizabeth in Detroit sent me my first bottle. It's great stuff. In fact, I think I need some now.

Lime cheesecake and raspberry sauce recipe

Due to popular demand (OK, only Theresa asked), I am posting the Lime Cheesecake and Raspberry Sauce recipe that I made yesterday to great acclaim at the BBQ in Biggleswade:

Crust:
1 c Shortbread Cookie Crumbs (15 cookies)
2 TB Butter -- melted

(Mel made the crust and used digestive biscuits, brown sugar and butter.)

Filling

24 oz Cream Cheese -- softened
1 c Sugar
3 Eggs
1 TB Grated Lime Peel -- (about 2 limes)
1/4 c Lime Juice

(I put in some Rose's Lime juice to spice it up a little, plus a little green food colouring to give it a cool look.)

Sauce

10 Oz Pkg Frozen Raspberries In Syrup-thawed
1 TB Cornstarch
1/3 c Red Currant Jelly

(I couldn't find frozen raspberries in syrup so I made a syrup by boiling sugar and water together for a few minutes. I didn't bother with red currant jelly but used a mixture of any red jam I had -- some peach/strawberry -- no one noticed.)


Combine cookie crumbs with butter and press into bottom of 9 inch springform pan; refrigerate.

In large bowl, beat cream cheese until smooth; gradually beat in sugar. Beat in eggs, one at a time, blending until smooth. Add remaining filling ingredients, beating until smooth. Pour over prepared crust. Bake at 325 F (170 C) for 55 to 65 minutes or until set.

To minimize cracking, place a shallow pan half full of hot water on lower rack during baking.

Turn oven off; let cheesecake stand in oven 30 minutes with door open at least 4 inches.

Remove from oven; let stand 10 minutes. Remove sides of pan; cool to room temperature on wire rack. Refrigerate overnight or up to three days. For sauce, drain raspberries, reserving syrup. Add water to syrup to make 3/4 cup. In small saucepan, combine syrup mixture and cornstarch; mix well. Add jelly; cook and stir over medium heat until thickened and clear. Stir in raspberries. Refrigerate until cold. Serve cheesecake slices with sauce.

Dr. Dillingham's latest book recommendations

Sometimes I post the book recommendations of my English professor in college, Dr. Dillingham. I love having such intellectual e-pals -- but his recommendation to read Balzac in French isn't going to work for me because I only know the words Bon Jour and merde in French; other than that, I'm out of luck. But here are his latest couple of recommendations because I know many of my readers are great intellectuals (unlike me who reads the National Enquirer every week):

"I am finishing Balzac's La Duchesse de Langeais, which I first read in college. We recently saw the movie (very well done) and I realized I could not remember anything about the book--it turns out that the screenplay is amazingly exact in its reproduction, scene by scene and sometimes word for word, of the novel. But I have enjoyed re-acquainting myself with Balzac. And reading a book in French now and then is a good thing for keeping my brain current in the language. I have a Spanish novel next in line.

The best book I have read recently is a memoir--Memoir of Hungary: 1944-1948--by Sandor Marai. It is his account of life in and near Budapest during the final days of the German occupation and the arrival of the Russian army, with the subsequent imposition of Soviet rule, which led to his going into exile. There are some passages of ranting against the Russians that finally get a bit tiresome, but 95% of the book is extremely engrossing and gorgeously written, even in translation. I have read a few novels, but none that I would urge you to pick up. Much of my reading has been recent volumes of poetry, among which I usually choose some to review, especially when I am sure there is an editor who wants the review."

BBQ in Biggleswade

We went to my sister-in-law Anita's house in Biggleswade for a BBQ today.
I got such a kick out of the seriousness with which the men took the task of barbecuing. There was much conferring around the BBQ -- time spent running to and fro for the right equipment, more conferring, then cooking -- really, they never left the grill -- you would have thought they were conducting nuclear testing, they treated it so seriously.

Here is my brother-in-law Louis advising my brother-in-law Alan about cooking techniques.

Next Alan passes on BBQing tips to his son Christopher for the next generation of Male Grillers:

Then all the males of the family get around the grill to get involved with the ritual burning of meat:

And after all that work, a well-deserved beer break. Thanks guys! The food was delicious.

Good for nothing, or maybe one thing

I had this boyfriend once in Jackson, Mississippi, who dumped me to move to Raleigh, North Carolina. I was sure I loved him desperately but after he dumped me, I forgot about him quickly. In fact, I have been amazed how rarely he crosses my mind unless it's for me to think, "Whew, what a close call that was. I'm so glad he got rid of me."

Today I got in a bind over a raspberry sauce for a baked lime cheesecake and needed help quickly. I knew to turn to my cooking bible, the Joy of Cooking. It's like having your mother, grandmother and great-grandmother all rolled up into one big Cooking Advice Center.

Then I realized that my erstwhile boyfriend had been good for something, for it was he who introduced me to the Joy of Cooking.

If you live in the US, and you don't have J of C, you should get it. Put it next to your copy of the Holy Bible -- it's that essential.


The Joy of Cooking is one of the United States' most-published cookbooks, having been in print continuously since 1936 and with more than 18 million copies sold. It was privately published in 1931 by Irma S. Rombauer, a homemaker in St. Louis, Missouri, who was struggling emotionally and financially after her husband's suicide the previous year. Rombauer had 3,000 copies printed by A.C. Clayton, a company which had printed labels for fancy St. Louis shoe companies and for Listerine, but never a book. In 1936, the book was picked up by a commercial printing house, the Bobbs-Merrill Company. While Joy is considered a bit daunting for beginning cooks, it is the backbone of many home cooks' libraries and is commonly found in commercial kitchens as well.

Stuff that fell out of a floorboard

Our house was built in the early 1900s. When we were renovating it, some clippings fell out of a floorboard that were a clue to the original owners that no one who had lived in the house since then had ever seen. I was delighted. It was as if they were sending me a message through time. I'm always that way when we live in a house with a history. I want to find something about it that only I know about -- a private communication between the past and me. Once I found a little room that had been boarded over in a house built in the 1830s, then my son found a fossil under the root of an ancient tree. These are the sorts of things that make life such an adventure for me.

But back to this house: here are a few things that fell out -- click on the image to see a bigger version.

I think the owners of the house must have had the business pictured. I should research it but I'm too busy living my own life right now to delve more deeply into theirs.

I wonder if they read The Diary of a Nobody when they were here -- I blogged about this book earlier -- it's a parody of a memoir published in 1892. Everyone in the family has read it now and laughed over its contents. Here's a sample:

April 6

Eggs for breakfast simply shocking; sent them back to Borset with my compliments, and he needn't call for anymore orders. Couldn't find umbrella, and though it was pouring with rain, had to go without it. Sarah said 'Mr. Gowing must have took it by mistake last night as there was a stick in the 'all that didn't belong to nobody.' In the evening, hearing someone talking in a loud voice to the servant, I went out to see who it was, and surprised to find it was Borset, the butterman, who was both drunk and offensive. Borset, on seeing me, said he would be hanged if he would ever serve City clerks anymore....I restrained my feelings, and quietly remarked that I thought it possible for a City clerk to be a gentleman. He replied he was very glad to hear it, and wanted to know if I ever came across one, for he hadn't....When he had gone, I thought of a splendid answer that I ought to have given him. However, I will keep it for another occasion.