Domani

There are times when I am happy with myself. There are times when I am not. Lately there are a lot more nots then ares.
I am used to failure. I have failed at many things over my life. My Brother has called me Gunner. "I'm gunner do this and I'm gunner do that.".
My latest failure is despicable to me. I constantly tell myself that I am going to do a certain very important thing and then, day after day, just keep putting it off. I have had two weeks to prepare for a certain very important thing and have just kept putting off and putting off the preparations. I will have to scurry around and scurry around today to prepare.
I was going to do the preparation yesterday but my Brother called and took me to the grocery store. It was difficult for him to get here as there is no place to park on the street. The snow is piled three feet high on either side of the road and the driveway is still deep in snow. Luckily he has four wheel drive and was able to reach the base of the driveway. I could not pass up a chance to overstuff the larder.
So I missed the chance to do the preparation yesterday. I am preparing for a visit by my dear, dear, daughter and her lovely family. I am concerned about the snow and the possibility that they will not have anywhere to put their car but I so much want to see her.
Failure has become the deciding influence in my life. I used to accept it as part of my make-up but in this incident I find myself despicable. Three people want to come and see me. My first-born, dear to my heart and mind, her so very admirable husband, and their brilliant and charming son.
So I am going to try to change. I am tired of living so far away from people and those that I love. I am going to try to change the way that I constantly put things off. I'm gunner do this. It is surprising that any human being would want to see me but I have read that they recently watched a movie called "Despicable Me" and that might have inspired them to think of Me.

More and More

It has been snowing all night. I am not sure how much of an accumulation there was overnight but the dilemma is, what to do with the snow and all of the other snow that is under it. There has been a snow storm almost every day for the last few days. None of the previous snowfall seems to have melted before a new one piles on more. I do very much like snow but the present situation is going to become troublesome when all of the snow starts to melt. I live high on a hill so there is no problem with flooding for me but the town's sewage treatment plant is upstream from the town's fresh water supply. Someone forgot about the six P's from Basic Training (Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance). So once more I will have to lay in gallons of fresh water as when the sewage treatment plant overflows the town shuts off all of the fresh water supply. The gallons are necessary because I have experienced this situation before. There is no need for drinking water as I always have a supply of juice and such for this situation. The gallons are necessary to flush the toilet. Three days with an unflushed toilet leave a lasting impression on a person.
It is still snowing outside and I must do something for the birds and the squirrel. I will walk a bit today, not a lot but a little. Walking in the snow is one of the pleasures of living in New England. One never has to worry about falling, for if one does fall, one lands with a whoosh not a thump.

Tucked Inn

I have often thought that TUCKED INN would be a great name for a bed and breakfast. A place for a more mature crowd to sit and sip by a fireplace, staring out the window at the accumulating snow, and eating cheesey, creamy, porky, potatoey dishes until it is time to go and take a nap. That would be a place that I would be attracted to. A place with no ski racks, no mountain bikes, and no workout equipment.
Moseying along on a old tired horse with a back as wide as a dining room table might be permitted. Sharing in the efforts of the kitchen would be permitted. Delicious dishes would be discovered from the treats that show up at a church or Grange supper. Amish dishes might appear as I hear that they now travel quite a bit. A very long hat rack would have to be installed to accomodate all of the flat black hats. A huge garden would permit picking one's own salad (Yes, salad would have to be permitted judging by today's tastes and there would be one Frenchman to make the dressing).
Yesterday I tucked in. I spent the day making spaghetti and meatballs. I ground the pork and the beef and mixed them with garlic and parsley and egg and cheese and bread crumbs for the meatballs. I didn't have any bread so I used packaged bread crumbs but the meatballs came out allright anyway. The meatballs browned up nicely in olive oil and I moved on to the sauce.
Two big cans of tomatoes and onions and garlic and pepperocini and salt and pepper and sugar and fresh thyme and fresh basil and a bay leaf and some red wine simmered away for hours and then the meatballs were added and the simmering recommenced.
When the sauce was properly reduced, I boiled up some bucatini, topped it with sauce and meatballs, and covered that with a nice layer of grated Asiago.
A better name for the bed and breakfast might be Nonna's Tucked Inn. That would attract the crowd that I am interested in and make for a whirlwind in the kitchen. No men would be allowed in the kitchen, just a mob of old Italian grandmothers creating their masterpieces of simplicity and quality.
Marie D'Medici brought fine cooking to France. The French can take a three day old dead horse and whip up a sauce that makes it ambrosial. The Italians use only the freshest and best of ingredients. I once read that if you want to experience genuinely divine cooking, first buy a small farm in Tuscany.
The Inn at the farm in Tuscany would offer special reduced rates to Amish grandmothers and supply the chicken and cream. They would have bring their own dumplings.
The Amish have a unique piece of advice to offer young men who plan to marry, on choosing a spouse. "Kissing don't last, cooking do!".
For a young lady to follow this advice, she would have to marry a Basque man. For women are not allowed in a Basque kitchen. Men do all of the cooking and, seeing that the dirty dishes are all in the kitchen, this might be a piece of advice to follow.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Yesterday was cold. It was not just the normal January cold. The snow squeaked when I walked on it. I cut my walk much shorter than I usually walk. The thermometer at the little store read minus eight. The tips of my fingers were starting to tingle even though I had gloves on. I decided that it was time to go home.
I have often stated how much I like the cold. Yesterday was too cold. I must be more careful of what I ask for.
I came home and made what is probably my favorite dish. I made canned tomatoes over elbow macaroni with shredded Asiago cheese on it. I have cooked a great many different dishes but that dish has always been my favorite. It is something that I often ate in my Mother's kitchen, basking in the warmth of her kitchen and presence.
I wonder if anyone has ever thought of publishing a cookbook that contains the recipes of the Mothers of famous chefs? I would like to have the recipe for Gordon Ramsey's Mother's macaroni and cheese. My tastes run more towards Two Fat Ladies than they do to Adele Davis.
Today might be a good day to try stew again. To sit and eat stew with corn bread while looking at Jack Frost's etchings on the window pane is a good way to spend such a New England day. I must do something for the birds and the squirrel. Their little toes must also be tingley.

Dreamelations

Revelations don't come often to a long haired, grey bearded, old curmudgeon, like me. One came last night while I was sleeping. I won't mention what it was because I am sure that it would include a buzzword that would elicit comments from half of the yahoos in the world and I would be inundated with passionate interpretations and thoughtless opinions.
The revelation concerned a subject that has long been on my mind and settled the misgivings I have had, very gently and sensibly. So now I am probably the only human being that has the answer and I am not sharing it with anyone. My thought processes have always existed in the hinterlands of human thinking and now I am firmly way out there.
It is a mystery why so many questions that I have had were resolved during dream time. Toast and butter side down are still up in the air.

Snowy

Yesterday was another snow day. It snowed profusely throughout most of the morning. Once the snow had ceased, I went out to shovel off the porch and steps. I also helped the landlord shovel out the driveway and stairs and path to the oil filler pipes. The landlord is ninety-two and can use the help. The temperature had turned surprisingly mild by then. Then I went for a walk. I love walking in the snow.
When I returned, I indulged in my favorite bored pastime. I made spaghetti sauce while reading a cookbook on Louisiana cooking and sipped a delightful Cabernet Sauvignon.
While I was sitting at the kitchen table, I noticed that the Bluebird was back on the porch. Evidently the bird is fond of the snow in the flower pots. I checked closely and the bird really is a Bluebird not a holdover Robin. I put some sunflower kernals into the flower pot. The bird flew off when I opened the door and I will have to check this morning to see if any of the seeds are gone.
Life is moving along simply and slowly. This is very appropriate for a man who is also simple and slow.
If I can get my hands on some fresh coriander and parsley, I think that I will attempt codfish cakes. I already have the salted codfish and lard. Portuguese codfish cakes, I really do miss New Bedford. Maybe some kale for a nice soup, I have a ham bone and can get Linguica or Chourice.

The Best Laid Plans

So much for the plan of nesting. Yesterday I went for a walk anyway. It was very treacherous going. The sidewalks were very slippery so I mainly walked in the street. The weather was pleasant but I curtailed the distance. I ended up at the library (surprise, surprise) and spent some time there. I bet that every book in that library has my fingerprints on it. Next to the grocery store, it is my favorite place.
Today I plan to go to the hardware store, there is something that I should get and two things that I want to check the price on. It is good to get out and walk around. I may even stop into the hot dog store. I have not had a hot dog in years and they are a treasured memory.
I will soon need some more soba noodles. They are almost an addiction. By the time that I finally finish preparing the dish, there is an interesting collage of colors and textures in the bowl. I have some shrimp in the freezer and would like to try them with the noodles. I might also defrost the rhinocerous and the moose. They are taking up too much space. The horn and antlers might make for an interesting stock.
I just noticed that the Moon is shining over the cedar tree outside and shining directly on me. Lunacy might explain my thought train.

Slip sliding away

The weather here has been a bit looney. Yesterday morning huge snowflakes were falling from the sky at a very impressive rate. By the time I got out to shovel, the snow had turned to rain. Imagine the scene, a layer of ice and tightly packed snow on the driveway, topped with a layer of slush, and rain on top of that. I cancelled my walk and went back into the house. There was too much of a possibility of disaster. I am not as agile as I used to be and the thought of slipping and trying to catch myself is a certain recipe for back problems. I don't mind falling. Just thump and you are on the ground but lurching around trying to prevent a fall is the danger.
So I tucked myself in, put on good warm socks, and proceeded to cook. I think that today will be the same as it is still pretty WD-40 outside.

Spicy Soup

The spicy soup is working its magic. Yesterday's batch had even more cherry peppers in it and some pepperoncinis also.
I went for a short walk. The sidewalks are not plowed so I walked in the street. As I was returning home, I met another elderly man coming the other way. We both smiled and I mentioned that it was unusual for the sidewalks not to be plowed. He said "It's better to cut back on the snow removal budget than to cut back on the school budget.".
That was typical of this small, sensible town. Here was a man undoubtably too old to have children in school stating the obvious. He doesn't mind being inconvenienced by walking in the street. He would mind if the children of the community weren't receiving a proper education. He has his priorities in order.
I also noticed that, despite the snow laden sidewalks, all of the fire hydrants had been shoveled out by the residents of the streets. This is a small town. There was a Wal-Mart but they moved out as the residents prefered to shop in the small stores of their neighbors. There is no video store but there is an excellent library which is funded by a trust fund established many years ago by a local resident. There are two very large senior citizen complexes. There is a senior citizens center that insures that senior citizens have transportation to medical appointments and grocery shopping. There is a hardware store and a store that sells only hot dogs. There is a music store that gives violin lessons but there is no computer store. These stores are all located in an area that is not even one hundred yards long.
This town and the people in it definitely have their ducks in a row. The town hall and the police station and the fire headquarters are all in the same building which is right in the center of town. There are a lot of churches, even an Evangelical church whose message board is in Spanish. All of the churches seem to have bell towers and when noon time strikes, the sound of bells sweeps across the valley. This town seems to be a microcosm of what America used to be, self-sufficient and sensible.

Soba

I finally got my hands on some soba noodles. I got both kinds, the plain and the buckwheat. I have always been very very fond of them. Yesterday was soba noodles with crispy pork and mushrooms and onions and garlic and peppers and cherry peppers and broth. It was a nice soup. Yesterday was a day for such soup because I have a cold. I have the sniffles and a stuffy nose and a nagging cough. The cherry peppers helped the symptoms.
I don't know how I got a cold. I don't go anywhere and I don't do anything. Whenever I go out, I wash my hands immediately upon returning. I am fastidious about never touching my fingers to my eyes or nose. Still, the cold finds a way in. "Silly mortal, we cold germs have been around a lot longer than you pitiful humans.".
Today I will go through my usual cold fighting routine. It may be shorter than usual as I only have about a half gallon of bleach left. I go through a lot of bleach each month. The smell of bleach reminds me of when I lived with my parents. The smell of bleach permeated the whole house, especially the kitchen. My Father would mix cold water and bleach for the final rinse of the dishes.
Just speaking of the smells of my Mother's kitchen reminds me that I have not completed one of my hopes. I have to, once more, get her recipe for American Chop Suey from my Brother. He has told me it inumerable times but I have never written it down and my memory is now quite fragmented on any thing that has occured within the last ten years.
This reminds me of a Saturday Night Live sketch where President Reagan was asked about the Iran-Contra incident and he stated that he didn't remember anything about it. The tag line was "Mr. President, the next time you sell weapons to people the call us The Great Satan, for God's sake write it down!".
So today will be more hot spicy soup and sitting and feeling sorry for poor poor pitiful me. The former is new, the latter is all too familiar around here.

My Main Man

The mail was delivered Tuesday, Wednesday, and yesterday. The schools are all closed, the towns are in a piffle about snow removal, the Governor just about closed the whole state, and still the mail gets delivered.
Is it possible that we have the wrong people running the government? The Post Office seems to be able to handle anything. They handle everything without a lot of whining and crying about the impossibility of their job. They are self supporting despite being forced to handle the government's mail for free. When they raise the price of something, they raise it by a penny or two. I am always amazed that a letter can go all of the way across the country for forty-four cents, and there is no handling charge! The Post Office takes care of their own when retirement time comes. They take care of their own when sickness or tragedy happens.
The people of New Orleans would have been much better off if the Post Office was handling their relief after the Hurricane. Admittedly, FEMA probably saved a great many palomino horses but was a little short on delivering food and water to human beings.
The Post Office is run by a General that has never endorsed any war or new efficient way of killing people. We are missing a great opportunity here. Instead of a TEA Party, we should all endorse a Zip Party. Then maybe we could all stop being P.O.'d at the government. Maybe it
is time for Americans to finally endorse a Stamp Act and let the Post Office handle things.
When is the last time that you saw your Congressman in your town? When is the last time that you saw the Mailman?

Oh the weather outsides delightful!

At last we have some decent snow. It is not that little sissy snow that simply messes up the roads and causes all of the unemployed landscapers to furiously circle around in their pick-up trucks with the plows attached, chasing one lonely snowflake. It is good, deep, fluffy snow. The kind of snow that generates snow forts and igloos and shoveled driveways with straight crisp sides proudly showing that one knows what one is doing while one is shoveling. There are always reports of old people collapsing while shoveling snow. Considering all of the other ways that there are to go, dropping in the driveway while shoveling doesn't seem like a bad way to go. Come Springtime, someone will find you and defrost you and maybe raise a glass to your memory.
I took a walk in the snow. I enjoy walking in the snow very much, almost as much as I used to enjoy driving in a really heavy snow with the large flakes streaming towards the windshield. I used to feel like Captain Kirk on the bridge of the Enterprise as the stars streamed towards him.
I went for the walk because I had made the one mistake that no New Englander should ever make. I thought that I was prepared for any type of blizzard. The larder is overflowing and I have plenty of milk and bread. This morning I discovered that I was down to the last roll of toilet paper! There are a lot of things that one can do without. There are a lot of things that can be improvised from other things. T.P. is not in either category.
When I returned, I made a nice roast beef with mashed potatoes and green beans. The gravy was drippings with beef stock and a nice ruby port and garlic and onion and carrot. The beef was tender, the potatoes had a nice gravy filled well in them, and the snow was falling outside while I pleasantly munched away. After that I took a nice nap.
Ah this New England! Is there any better place to live in the world? I don't think so. I don't ever want to live in a place where cocoa and wool socks are not necessary to life.

Gently

It is gently snowing outside. It is not a blizzard or heavy snow. It was snowing when I got up and I don't know how long it has been snowing but there is not much accumulation The cedar tree outside looks like a Christmas tree with its puffballs of snow gently rocking in the breeze. The cedar waxwings are darting in and out of the branches, munching away on the berries. Each time that one lands on a branch, the puffball explodes as if it were a ripe dandelion. The birds will visit that tree all Winter. They never eat all of the berries at once so they have a full larder all Winter. It is not a Country Buffet to them. It is more like a snack bar. Humans would do well to emulate their restraint.
So as it snows, I sit here in a place overflowing with food. The last time that I went to the grocery store I really overdid it. The refrigerator is bursting with frozen and fresh food. The counter tops are piled with food also. All this for a man that only eats one meal a day.
Today I think that I will venture once more into the mysterious world of soups. I have five different kinds of mushrooms and I have leeks and potatoes and heavy cream and butter. More things may end up in the soup as many of the fresh vegetables are starting to look a little wimpy. I detest throwing away food. I remember a Doctor telling me that the best fed thing in America was the average American's garbage disposal. My freezer is jam packed with meat trimmings, vegetable trimmings, and one beautiful ham bone that will end up as Swedish Yellow Pea Soup. I don't eat out (Two episodes of food poisoning spawned this axiom) and I don't buy prepared foods. The many cans of cream of mushroom soup are a necessary exception.
The ham bone is from a whole ham. I occasionally splurge on a ham as there is a great deal of meat for the price. I end up eating ham for a long time. The only troubling part of the ham is waking up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water. Pork Fat Rules!!

Bracing

Yesterday I went for a walk. There was no necessity for the walk but I felt that it was time to blow the dust off of me. The Sun was shining and the ice was melting but a bitter wind was blowing. My thoughts turned to O.E. Rolvag's book. I also thought of the Winter that I was working outside in upstate Michigan. The waterfall was not iced up but the wind seemed to find every opening in my coat. I even bypassed the library. As I was passing Riverview, I thought "Well, any port in a storm.". The ice on the sidewalks was treacherous. There was a layer of meltwater on top of the ice and negotiating it required small steps and arms out for balance.
It was refreshing to walk in such weather. I have always been more comfortable with cold weather than hot weather. It's time to load up the longboat and go and pillage a few monasteries. Monasteries wouldn't get pillaged if they hadn't accumulated so much nice glittery stuff. Nobody wants a boat full of turnips and sackcloth. How they get so much shiny stuff is simple. Father Riordan once told me "You can't take it with you but you can send it on ahead.". Simple is a keyword in this procedure.
The score is now Nemesis 1, N 0. It is time to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again.
Today will be baking and cooking and looking out the window at the cold. I got enough cold yesterday and the seed catalogues are whispering their siren call.

Lateness

Last night was filled with the same old nightmares. The nightmares about being late for school, being late for roll call in the Army, being late for work. I awakened and was heartened by the fact that none of those situations apply to me anymore.
As I lay there in the dark, my thoughts turned to a time long ago. The Lady of Literature took me to see a movie. The movie was "Pele the Conqueror". I later got the book from the Boston Public Library. In the book was an incident that applied to my life very much. I never took any action on that message. I should have. It would have changed my life so much.
So, despite my statements on resolutions, I will try to finally put that lesson into place. My old Nemesis is laughing right now, for I have so many times tried to lay that nemesis to rest. It remains to be seen if I will be the conqueror or the conquered. That Nemesis has beat the living tar out of three generations of my family and I am sure it is not very concerned with this resolution. Watch out Nemesis, there is a new resolve in town!

Recycling

The New Year is here. I didn't make any resolutions but I can use the ones from last year. They are still in the box as I didn't use any of them. I have so many things to be thankful for that it doesn't seem right to make plans for new things. There are still the same old plans and dreams and hopes in the box and they too shall be recycled.
What is left are the wishes. I wish for peace for the world. I wish that no child be cold or hungry or in pain. Every parent has these wishes. The world is brimming with parents. Unfortunately the world also has a plethora of leaders. The leader's wishes are quite often different from parent's. The parents of the world want peace. Someday the leaders are going to have to step aside and let them have it. There will still be conflicts and disagreements and tragedy but not on the massive scale that our leaders have led us to.
Wars are the tragedy that must be eliminated. There is a phrase that is used in infantry leader training. It is "Follow Me!". There might be a few less wars if our leaders pursued this policy. They seem to have a policy of "Go do what I tell you and let me know how you make out.".
The only leader that I can think of that subscibed to "Follow Me" was Alexander the Great. Alexander was always at the forefront of all of the fighting. We are sorely lacking in Great leaders. The Alabama Air National Guard doesn't qualify for an example of "Follow Me". One shining example of the hope for humanity sticks in my mind. One day in India, Alexander said "Follow Me" and his men said "Nope" and they all turned around and started home.
So maybe the byword for this year will not be "Follow Me" but will be "Nope". Nope I want to go home and watch my children grow and hold the hand of my wife and live each day to the fullest and anticipate each tommorow. I want to live in peace with my neighbors, watch their children grow, and age slowly without strife. I can live with misfortune, I can live with hard times. I do not want to be the cause of any of them. I do not want dominance but a little Domestic Tranquillity would be nice.
One last thought about getting older. I am thankful that wrinkles don't hurt.