Omelettes

Omelettes, just another way the French have devised to drive non-French people crazy. The instructions are simple. Melt butter in pan.
Put beaten eggs in pan.
Use flat of fork to keep runny stuff moving.
Use flat of fork to flip 1/3 of egg onto the remaining egg.
Tilt pan and roll omelette onto plate.
They leave out the most important step: Insert hand grenade under eggs!
I know that the French stay up nights thinking up ways to infuriate the English. They eat huge amounts of butter, cheese, cream, and sausage. They drink prodigious amounts of wine and smoke unfiltered cigarettes. They live to be 2000 years old. This omelette thing is the last straw. I guess the only way to learn it is to spend a year in Provence. A long cherished dream that will never come true. Bouillabaisse is only a dream. Sure, a stew made from the leftover fish a fisherman's wife has on hand, an inexpensive lunch. Oh and by the way, you have to use saffron threads. No ground up diamonds, they would only cheapen the dish. Perhaps six months in Languedoc for cassoulet. I could make it here but the market is fresh out of preserved goose. The Germans are always trying to invade France. They are simply looking for a good meal, besides saurbraten. Each time they come, they bring their own beer.
And so there is a dream to cherish. A year in Provence and six months in Santorini with side trips to Akrotiri. A side trip to Italy to see Bellini's Daphne, finishing with a year in Tuscany. Then Vienna for sachertorte! A joyful homecoming to Panacea, Florida for stone crab. Pack a change of underwear and a large bottle of Crestor and off we go! I would remember fondly 2008 with an emphasis on the ate.

Year's end

The end of another year. I hope that 2008 is as bland as 2007 has been. I no longer look forward to exciting. Being in a train wreck is exciting, jumping out of an airplane was exciting, riding a quarter horse that had not been out of the barn in two weeks was exciting, steering a sailboat in a furious storm was exciting No wonder I go through underpants so quickly. I have had enough of exciting.
I have made one resolution for the New Year and I hope that I can keep it. This year I will remember the six P's from Basic Training: Prior
Planning
Prevents
Piss
Poor
Performance
I never plan anything. John Lennon was right or as the ancient Greeks said "What makes the Gods laugh? A man with a plan.".
Yesterday was turkey, I plan to have more today. I can't wait for it to be gone. I haven't made spaghetti sauce in weeks and am deep within withdrawal. Today, if the weather permits, I will go to the store to get the ingredients for meatballs. Knowing myself I am sure that SAUSAGE will be purchased. Pork sausage, not @!#$ turkey sausage. Life is simple. Remembering KISS isn't.

Prognostradamian Moment

I have had a vision of the future. In the future I see TURKEY! I am going to be eating turkey for some time to come and then will come turkey stock and my inevitable Soup of Doom. Some people can throw out leftovers, they are blessed. I can't bring myself to throw out food. I have to use up what is there before I make something new. Expiration dates are just for the faint of heart. I have enough chicken livers in the freezer to make rumaki for the masses of China. Wouldn't it be nice to have enough resources to open up a soup kitchen and just cook my brains out. Of course, judging by my soup experiences, it would be the only soup kitchen in the land with no waiting and I am sure the EPA would have something to say about my soup.
My brother has commented on my problem. He said "It's easy to see you were a child of the Depression.". I am not a child of the Depression but I can remember when times were lean. I remember ketchup sandwiches, mayonnaise sandwiches, even mustard sandwiches. It is a sad commentary on how the world has changed that when my Mother would bake a whole haddock, and they were big back then, we knew that times were tough as fish was much less expensive than beef. To get a whole haddock now a person would need a co-signer.
My Father had a very rigid policy on bills. Food shopping was done before the bills were paid. I never realized how well we ate until I started going to other people's homes for dinner. Only the Italians seemed to outshine my Mother's creativity with simple, inexpensive foods. I remember creamed salt cod-fish, over new potatoes, very fondly. There was always a pot of stew or soup cooking on the back burner. One of the many things I admire about the French is that they never throw anything out. Everything eventually makes it into soup. If you are walking through the kitchen when a French woman is making soup, KEEP MOVING. Be sure to return in a few hours, you are in for some incredible soup. The French and Italians know how to live.
My heritage is Swedish and Irish. Lutefisk and Finnan Haddie, what a heritage. There is an old adage
The Danes live to eat,
The Nowegians eat to live,
The Swedes eat to drink.
Then there is the Irish cookbook, it has only one recipe:
Boil four gallons of water,
Throw all of the food into the pot,
Drink beer until the water has all boiled away.

Eyeless

The turkey got cooked. I forgot to take the stuffing out when I put it in the refrigerator. Today's crisis has been resolved. I was unable to find the reading glasses this morning and spent two hours looking for them. As usual, they were in plain sight. Considering that I only use three rooms and I didn't go out and no one came to visit, I was unable to use my usual excuse "Someone must have stolen them.". There is no reason to go outside today. It will be a day of eating and reading. I was very worried about the glasses and kept thinking of the Twilight Zone episode where the librarian is the last person on Earth and breaks his glasses. I really should find something to do but that is one of the great things about getting old, you don't have to do anything. I got all of my doing done when I was younger. I have failed at many things but have forgiven myself. Life is like baseball: You win some, you lose some but you dress for them all. You stand up to the plate each time and are thankful when you don't get hit by the ball. My baseball career was shortlived. I made the team in college. It was a small school and I made the team because they only had eight players. The coach became worried when he had to tell me "The stockings go inside the pants.".
I have absolutely no reflexes and had to start swinging at the ball when the pitcher was getting off of the bus. In the first at bat I got hit by the pitch and thought "Oh boy, this is an easy way to get on base.". It turns out that there is a silly rule that if you don't try to get out of the way, you don't get on base. The highlight of my career was a slowly growing bruise on my left side. It was then that I learned about life. You have a deep suspicion that you are going to get hit by the ball but you stand up to the plate anyway.

Turkey?

The turkey didn't get cooked yesterday. I went to the refrigerator and there they were: KNOCKWURST! The menu for the day was 1. Omelette with cheese, proscuitto, roasted red pepper and leek.
2. Knockwurst and beans.
3. Brigham's vanilla ice cream
4. Peanut butter sandwich with butter.
5. Olives with Marzetti's dip.
Early to bed and Louis XIV. Epicurius would approve. Today may be turkey day if I can anticipate six hours without a nap. Blissfully, there is no reason to go out today. Life is so good.

Grey

Quiet it is and grey is the day. It is reassuring that there is no reason to go outside today. The forecast is for rain, freezing rain, and possibly snow. Today I will roast the turkey and possibly, once again, attempt to vanquish the demon of pie crust. The apples need a new home as the have gotten soft from lack of exercise. While the turkey is roasting, it will be cocoa and the Illiad. I have to finish one of the books. They are lying on the floor, their open pages staring at my shame. This epicurean life is pleasing.
How life turns out is never as was anticipated. All the years of hoping for better things turn into hoping for no change. This life is not opulent or thrilling but plain and satisfying. I no longer hope for things to get better, only that they don't get worse. "Ease on down the road.". Life is not reaching a goal, it is the journey to a goal. It is more satisfying to roast turkeys and pies, sit with a warm blankie and cocoa, and nap. It is too dangerous to step out the front door, Bilbo was right.

Christmas

"And so this is Christmas, for God and for Man. And so this is Christmas, do what you can.".
There are many Christmases that I remember, some I have forgotten. Most of the presents get forgotten but the joy of family lingers for years. Yesterday will not only linger buy shine forever. I sat on the couch staring at the most memorable Christmas present that I can remember. A thing of wonder and beauty, recently created, containing an incredible amount of memory. It even keeps track of nickels. What was amazing is that it can instantly turn into a laptop and like most of this decade's wonders its label has three letters :IBM, MAC, and ___. This Christmas will be remembered. Some cultures believe in reincarnation. If this is so, I would like to come back as a Tomte. This long haired sleeping gnome would enjoy that.
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL THIS GOOD NIGHT!

Lateness

Being up at this time of the night is familiar. For many years I worked the midnight shift. First in the rubber mill, then the gas station, then the army, then the telephone company, then the taxi job. There is a certain peace to this time, perhaps because the Persons from Porlock are all asleep. I am not up late, I am up early. I laid down about four p.m. to read. Two pages and then came slumber. I have spent a large portion of my life blissfully unaware of what was going on around me but one thing I noticed. People who work the midnight shift get strange. Random thoughts, that usually just flit away for daytime people, get concentrated and assume an undue importance. I think that all activists and reformers see too much of the Moon. When they say that they have seen the light, it is Dawn.
I remember one in particular. I was taking a philosophy course and one lady went off on a tangent one night. She said that the organization she worked for discriminated against half black, half Cherokee women from Louisiana that were raised by Carthusian monks in Texas and that there was a glass ceiling where she worked so that no woman could become the head of the firm. I asked her who she worked for and she said "The Catholic Church.". I wondered, when she was applying for the job didn't she know the top spot was sort of restricted? I asked her what hours she worked and she said "Midnight to 8 a.m..". If you spend too much time absorbing the light of Luna you become a Luna___. Racing around in my mind now is the thought of a concept of a mystic that I recently read. Nothing exists. Well if nothing exists, then something exists: Nothing. If Nothing is something then Nothing exists and that is really something. I think I will pull the shades, the moonlight is glaring onto the computer screen and I should shave a few times.

Illiad

I am re-reading the Illiad. I watched the movie Troy on television and seemed to remember it differently than the movie depicted so, as another of my innumerable memory tests, I decided to re-read it. I don't think that Menelaus was killed at Troy and I am certain Agamemnon wasn't Orestes's life would have been much easier if that was so. So far memory is doing well. There are things that I am probably misinterpreting. It appears that the reference to Myrmidons is that they were women. This would have pleased Patroculus, no competition. I probably won't finish as my propensity for minutia has already arisen. There are 1186 ships, I counted them. Some ships had 120 men, some had fifty. Taking an average of eighty-five, this results in 100,810 Greeks. I think that Homer wasn't aware that his pants were on fire. One thing has come to mind. The problems of the Greeks were precipitated over the capture and treatment of the daughter of Chryses. Hmmm, crisis? This is what happens when a person has nothing to do and too much time to do it. I know that I won't finish, I am currently in the middle of four books.

Bad news for Huckabee

I have some bad news for Mr. Huckabee. My Father told me that the difference between Republicans and Democrats was that Republicans are mean and Democrats are thieves. Thieves will only steal so much until they get nervous and become reformers. Mean goes on forever. I have never voted for a winner, Mr. Clinton excepted. I think that Mr. Huckabee is a good person and tells the TRUTH. I have decided to vote for him. Given my past performance, this is bad news for him. I wanted to vote for Mrs. Clinton but I think that she is caving in to business as usual. I respect Senator McCain very much but I think the Republicans will say that he was hiding behind his aeroplane instead of piloting it. He would have been better off if he had joined the Alabama Air National Guard. That way he could have stayed in bed instead of Hanoi.

stew

Yesterday was beef stew. Just like the soups, it was passable but not great. I think the problem is that when I make stew or soup, I tend to clean out the refrigerator. All of those little darlings that have been waiting on the shelves, so patiently for so long, get a chance to strut their stuff. The remains of the relish jar, beard and all, made it into the bean soup, those poor innocent beans, but I don't think it was the relish, maybe it was the Hershey bar. I have to remember K.I.S.S.. The corn bread was good. I feel guilty because I used canned beef broth for the stew instead of making it. I can't get meaty beef bones out here. I don't understand why as there are a lot of French people out here. Another disadvantage of living away from the poor part of a city. You should see what they do to a poor fish out here. Two things are in the near future, the new recipe for macaroni and cheese and the garlic shrimp recipe. There will be a problem with the seafood. I got spoiled by living close to New Bedford. I haven't seen a monkfish tail anywhere around here. I wonder who is raising the boneless cows.

firefox

Kristen, boy were you right about Firefox. It looks like Netscape and Explorer were the problem, we'll see.

Attempt

This attempt looks like it might be successful. The snow is not as deep as the prophets of doom suggested. The plow trucks are still circling around in glee although one has gone to tell the king that the snow is falling. I went out yesterday before the snow started and returned just as it was starting. I made pizza again and this time it was good. It took a long time to get the sauce right but it was worth it. I watched the snow fall while drinking cocoa, made from Ghiradelli cocoa that three of the world's most wonderful people gave to me. Friend, I am not up late, I am up early. I find that I wake up about midnight each day. This is probably because I go to bed at five p.m. each evening and continue on my quest to read the entire Story of Civilization series by Will and Ariel Durant. I read the first volume about fifteen years ago and can remember a great deal of it, especially the part about India and the Vedas. I am now on volume eight, the age of Louis XIV. I find it difficult to retain the entirety of what I read now. I have even resorted to rereading. I may be able to finish the series because the Durants are dead and it seemed that they could write faster than I could read. Snow storm outside a warm room, a warm blanket,hot cocoa, a good book to read, does life get any better than this. I gained a new appreciation of Luther. He was pudgy and therefore has my respect." Not by works", that goes along with what I have always felt, as if God needed my help to right the wrongs of the world. "But by faith alone", that is the part that has started the thinking. How does one know that they really have faith? Pascal advised faith based on probabilities, imagine a dead athiest (all dressed up with no place to go) but then realized it was not possible to reason faith. It must just be faith. Augustine of Hippo said the same. Abelard, the long suffering genius agreed with Stevie Wonder "If you believe in things that you don't understand, superstition that's your name." Aristotle, lets leave the Trinity and Socrates and Menon out of this, said "If you understand your god then your god is not a god." These were some of the greatest minds mankind has ever produced. They agree on virtually nothing. All the reading I do seems to agree that in the beginng, if there was one, there was only God. Use the word Logos and you could have become kindling a thousand years ago. O.K., here I go. In the beginning everything was condensed into something smaller than an atom. Then BANG. Hydrogen, space, and time were formed. Hydrogen became stars, which grew older and exploded, forming new elements and new stars. These stars went through the same process. Eventually the leftover elements coalesced and formed planets. Primordial Soup led to people. O.K., go back. In the beginning there was just God. It seems to me that the only source of everything else has to be the only available resource. We are star stuff because the elements that compose us were made in stars. Stars were made from God. Do the math. We live in a habitable zone. Any time the Sun acts up, the Earth compensates. Coincidence? All of the early religions seem to have the same basic concepts which were handed down orally. Words. Now all of the religions have separated into infinitesimal differences. These differences were all written down in Sacred Books. How do you get other people to read what you have written? You have to write something new or different, words. To me, the problem seems to be words, not Words. Kind of brings me back to Pascal. How can I ever be sure that I truly have faith and am not just playing the odds? Only I can know this and I am not sure. Reason, like Twinkies, is awfully tempting and just about as good for you. See what happens when you are up late at night and have had four cups of deliciously strong coffee?

Attempt at posting

Today I will go walking. The scenery is beautiful. All of the trees look like glazed honeydip doughnuts. The sidewalks are like glass. I will wait until the sidewalks melt. I went walking yesterday and discovered that ice and sneakers are a bad mix.
I was up quite late reading Pascal. How much human suffering could have been averted if he and the Jansenists had come before Luther? He had the answer to the question I have always had about faith. Maybe he and Abelard suffered enough to understand but I guess understanding is the difference between them.

Getting old

I never guessed that getting old was going to be so easy. I never knew that it was going to be so enjoyable. I will add those to the list of things I never knew, page 143, volume 27.