Thursday, September 17, 2020
Wednesday, September 16, 2020
My hands smell of ginger and garlic and cumin because I am making one of my favorite soups which is the New York Time's Creamy Cashew Butternut Squash Soup. I make mine, however, with acorn squash and sweet potatoes and I think that the sweet potatoes are a truly southern gourmet addition but that's just my own personal opinion.
I just put a huge loaf of sourdough, oat bran, and leftover-mashed-potatoes bread into the oven. It is more of a breathing mass of jiggling life than it is of what we think of as dough.
And those two things shall be our supper.
We've been getting toad-strangling rain all day in bands thrown off from Hurricane Sally which hit the Alabama coast as a Category 2 storm which isn't the most powerful but powerful enough, trust me. And because it moved so very, very slowly over the gulf it is a major rain producer and there have been floods from Alabama all the way across to the panhandle of Florida. We've been getting warnings and again, there have been times today when my yard was flooded. Lily has been sending pictures of her yard which has a small lake deep enough for the children to put on their swimsuits and wade into.
We are so lucky that that's all we're getting. I've seen pictures of bridges out and water up to the middles of cars in Pensacola.
Two and a half more months of hurricane season.
Blogger won't let me post pictures tonight which should not be a huge disappointment for you as the only pictures I have are of rain and puddles. It's been a rather quiet day for me. I woke up this morning from dreams that were not pleasing at all, to say the least. One of them, a variation on my house dreams, had changed the setting from a huge place with endless hallways and rooms and levels to a trailer which did have an upstairs and a downstairs but it was as crowded and packed with junk as any of these dreams AND it was Christmas and I was trying to figure out what to give my family members from the pile of things I'd shopped for, mere trinkets mostly, and I needed to wrap everything and it was so crowded and filled with crap in the space that I could not lay everything out, much less have room to wrap anything and then I thought about how I really did need to make Christmas dinner and there was just no way and I kept saying, "I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas, I hate Christmas."
Also, there were a whole lot of people there.
Probably all of them expecting a fine Christmas feast.
So when I woke up, I already felt overwhelmed and depressed and sad and frustrated and even angry and almost wanted to just stay in bed with Jack but I did not want to chance another dream like that so I got up which is what one does.
I've done a little crocheting. I watched a few more episodes of The Office. And perhaps motivated by the dream I ordered birthday presents for all of our September birthday babies and a little something-something for my grandchildren who were NOT born in September, selling my soul to Amazon who no doubt will use it for packing material when they ship harvested glacial ice to hell.
And so, that's how it goes here today. We dodged a bullet with a hurricane, we've probably caught up on any rain deficits we may have had, and right now I'm watching squirrels and cardinals feed from the pile of old bird seed I threw into the yard yesterday because it had become infested with tiny bugs. The chickens have been scratching at that all day, too, whenever it was dry enough for them to not risk drowning.
And now it is raining again.
I am too rain-dumbed and life-beaten to have anything else to say.
Tuesday, September 15, 2020
Well, as fires rage in the west, we here in North Florida are getting rain, rain, rain. That's what my back yard looked like earlier. The water has absorbed into the ground by now but it was coming done so fast that it puddled and pooled there for awhile.
We're dodging Hurricane Sally but getting some rain from it and an occasional gust of wind.
Monday, September 14, 2020
Sunday, September 13, 2020
That is the banana picture from yesterday. Look at all those little baby bananas!
Today has been just as exciting as every other day which is to say, not at all. I've been ridiculously useless and even sat and embroidered my silly embroidery on my falling-apart dress and watched some more of the last season of "The Office." I am not kidding when I tell you that I do not know what I'm going to do when it's over.
Maybe just watch the whole thing over again.
I've got a pain in my neck which, as I just told Lis, is better than a pain in my ass, I suppose. It's a rather serious pain. Not like freshly broken ribs but still annoying as hell. It's even giving me a slight headache. I know that when I fell I probably did all sorts of hellvacious damage to my spinal alignment if, indeed, I still had any to begin with. Add that to the fact that I've been having to pull on the doors around here to open them with all my might because they're all swollen up from the rain and humidity. I am NOT complaining about that. It's just a fact and I really do have to tug and tug and tug to get those doors open so who knows? Not me but it's even been waking me up at night. I should probably go see a chiropractor.
Besides that, though, everything is okay. Instead of feeling bad about being useless I've felt completely accepting of it. It is Sunday, after all and as a meme I saw the other day pointed out, even ol' Yahweh took Sunday off for a little self-care.
We all need self-care. So lean in and sit with that for awhile and don't forget your green tea, either.
I have to add that SOMEONE around here definitely did NOT take the day off. I found two extremely large eggs in the hen house today.
Saturday, September 12, 2020
Friday, September 11, 2020
That is approximately six or seven Netflix-streamed episodes of "The Office" worth of pea shelling. In that bowl are two different varieties of peas and some of them, as you can see, are dried and brown because they stayed on the vine too long but they cook up fine.
Here's a close-up.
The green-bean looking pieces are what we call snaps. They were picked a bit too early and their peas are immature and although you CAN shell (or shuck) them, sometimes we just snap off the ends and then snap the little beans into pieces. They are good like that too. Here's a really close close-up with a quarter for scale. They are quite small.
Ten to the quarter or so? Something like that. Shelling them is indeed time-consuming but as a mindless chore to be done while watching TV, a pleasant task. And they are delicious. So it's worth it all the way around. I did get quite a few ant bites while picking yesterday but that's just the way it is.
Isn't this exciting?
I knew you'd think so.
When I went to Costco today, I asked the sweet guy in the liquor store if he'd done anything exciting lately. He said that no, he was just trying to keep his head above water, working, and not much else. He asked me if I'd done anything exciting lately. I said, "Coming to Costco is about the most exciting thing in my life lately. So to me, you're living the dream, buddy!"
He laughed. But Kevin is quick to laugh. He's just a nice man.
I went to Publix too. We were out of bananas. And almost out of limes. Danger, danger, Will Robinson! More bananas have appeared on my bloom but they won't be ripe for quite awhile. One must have bananas. And limes. Of course I managed to find about a hundred dollars' worth of other stuff to buy, too. As always.
Besides that stuff, there's been little else. It's been raining again, on and off. It is, of course, the anniversary of 9/11. We all have so many memories of that day. That morning in particular. I was with Lon and Lis. Lis had had her appendix out and Lon and I had gone to fetch her from the hospital and the TV was on in the room and she pointed at it and said, "Look what's happening," and none of us could comprehend it and when we got in the car to go back to Gatorbone, Bob Edwards was on NPR and trying to make sense of it all for us and no one really understood what was going on but his voice was so calm and I still appreciate that. Then came the the other destructions and the endless loops of the devastating disaster videos and I drove home across the state, the sky empty of planes, my mind empty of answers, just knowing I had to get home to my children, my husband.
It is still unimaginable after all this time. And yet, more people have died now from Covid than they did on that day of terror.
I have no way to tie any of this up in a neat square knot. It's impossible. So I'll just say that it's Friday. Maurice is tormenting me by trying to walk across my keyboard as I write, rubbing her back on my chin. I think she may actually be mellowing a bit in her old age. She seeks out Mr. Moon when he is in his chair and yes, she still growls when he moves but she's not as apt to grab with her terrible claws and bite with her terrible fangs. Time has had its way with her just as it has with everything including me and you and our memories of that day when planes crashed and people died in the most horrible of ways. We haven't forgotten and those of us who were here will never forget and I still weep when I think of all of the pictures people posted of their missing loved ones, when I think of the heroes and the innocent who are gone.
Well. On that cheerful note I believe I will ask my man to make me a martini. "Olives or pickled green beans?" I will ask him. And I'll make supper and we will eat it and the rain will continue to fall and we will sleep on clean sheets and sleep as if the world was a safe place, a good place, which may be true here and there for a moment or so but then change on a dime, on a whim, on a breeze, and yet, we go on as if we had no idea because that's what you have to do.
Happy Friday, y'all.