Peace & Love

Bye!

Have lots of fun while I'm gone.

My Dinner With Me

Last night I decided to prepare a special holiday dinner for me, myself and I. Before I went out for my walk I took a chance. I plugged in the Christmas lights which were still in a wad by the table. Maybe the house would catch on fire, but it would be worth it in case it didn't and I could walk back in in the dark and be surprised by the lights.

The jog was great. It was cold and windy. I listened to my Beatles Pandora station. I ran into Anne and Peter. I filled my pockets with stones and glass.

I got back and was greeted by a twinkling pile of lights, and no smoke from house fire.

I had planned my mostly-Trader Joe menu before I left:

Wine

$5.95 bottle of Prosecco Sparking Wine

Appetizers

One of John's chocolate chip cookies

One Trader Joe's The Art of Chocolate/A selection of beautifully crafted Belgian miniatures (keep going until I get to the peanut butter one)

One ginger snap left behind by Tom (Perfect for Those with Glutin Sensitivity)

Small bowl of candy coated chocolate covered sunflower seeds for good health

One dark chocolate covered Espresso Bean

Main Course

One Trader Joe's Maryland Style Crab cake on toasted bun with tartar sauce and Romaine lettuce

10 Baby carrots, pre-peeled

Dessert

Small slab Gethsemani Trappist Kentucky Bourbon Chocolate Fudge

Leftover coffee from breakfast

Music

Yo-Yo Ma / Songs of Joy and Peace

The only problem: I discovered the crab cakes were supposed to have thawed for 24 hours before cooking–and they were frozen solid. So I was forced to change the menu midstream to Trader Joe's Authentic New Mexican Chicken Chile Verde over rice. But still I would call the evening a resounding success. So much so that I wasn't even able write about it until this morning.

Accidental Mysteries

I have a phenomenal treat for you today. I met John Foster, who started the blog Accidental Mysteries, when I went to St. Louis last February. This is one of the drawings he posted today. You have got to read the story that accompanies it. Pour yourself a glass of wine and go over there right now.

Accidental Mysteries is a blog about photography, design, art, architecture, ephemera, found objects, outsider art, folk art, self-taught art, illustration, beauty, esoterica, auctions, discovery, art environments, mystery, vintage stuff and the magic that can be found in everyday things.

Two Nice Things

Nice Thing #1

At 4:30 this morning I took Tom to the airport. I was feeling a little strange all day. Then ... the doorbell rang, and I found a mysterious package outside on the porch. I saw Mari's name on the return address and ripped into it with a big smile on my face.

You may not know this, but Mari makes things other than cookies. And this is one example. I'm actually showing what she silk-screened on the back of the apron–but as you can see, the fish on the front are pure delight.

So my mood started to change. I knew I had class tonight ... and that if only I could strike up a conversation with someone, my loneliness might go away completely for awhile.

Nice Thing #2

On Dec 18, 2008, at 1:08 PM, Jamie wrote:

linda those beach finds in the candy cups are the most gorgeous thing I've seen in weeks. I just drug my co-worker, Dora, over to my screen to look. We are delighted here at InTouch magazine!

From: Linda
To: Jamie
Date: Thu, 18 Dec 2008 13:20:32 -0800

Aw, thanks, Mr. Lipps. What's the latest from InTouch? Something special that nobody knows, that I can casually drop into conversation tonight at class.

From: Jamie
Date: December 18, 2008 1:23:19 PM PST
To: Linda

former child star Jodi Sweetin, of TV's "Full House", is accused of being a DANGER TO HER DAUGHTER.

Thank you, Jamie. Problem solved.

Ocean Beach Treats

I had this idea to shoot things found on Ocean Beach in little paper candy cups. I looked half-heartedly for empty candy cups.

Then in Walgreen's I spotted some candy cups with candy included: Ferrero Rocher Chocolates. I thought why not buy the candy too? It's Luci's favorite candy. And if I can't get them in the mail for some reason, it's easy enough to eat the candy myself. That way, I'll save money by having free paper candy cups to use for my photo.

Note to Luci: I wasn't able to get the candy in the mail.

He was there again this evening:

Sadness/Gladness

Today and yesterday Mom couldn't keep food down. This morning when I talked to her and asked her how she was feeling, she said that something was very wrong with her psyche.

This afternoon when I asked if her stomach hurt, she said no–that she just hurt all over. That what she felt was sadness.

On a day like today, it really helps to run into someone like this (Peter).

Cold

Tom took over my computer all day to work on an arty DVD project. So late this afternoon I went for a solitary jog. It was cold. Can you tell from the photo? Windy, too. The only problem is that I returned home ravenous and by the time I came to my senses, I had finished off Barbara's chocolate pecan biscotti.

I'm really glad not to be at an office Christmas party this evening. I'm sure those of you who know me well will be shocked to hear that.

2 Confessions: TomToms and Slim Jims

Confession #1: TomToms

Mom: Journey was over here today!

Me: I know, Mom! She came in while we were talking this afternoon. Did you two go anywhere?

Mom: We went for a ride ... But Honey! Do you know what a TomTom is?

Me: Well I know Journey sings and plays the flute ... Is it a drum? Did Journey bring a drum over?

Mom: NO! (laughs uproariously). It's a little tiny thing in her car. It's called a TomTom. I can hold it in one hand. I held it in my right hand. It has a glass front. But you can't see through the glass. You tell it where you want to go and it talks back to you! It tells you when to turn right or left! How does it work? That's what I can't figure out.

Before we hung up, I warned Mom that she might not be able to get in touch with me tonight, as it's Friday and Tom and I might go somewhere. Not to mention that this was the third time we had talked today.

When we finally did hang up I googled TomTom to check up on this business, and it took me straight to TomTom.com. I saw an array of tiny instruments with glass fronts that talked to you. My 89 year-old Mom with dementia introduced me to TomTom's.

This evening instead of going to a movie or out for a drink, Tom and I went for a jog on the beach. We were stretching in the dark when my phone rang. I saw that it was Mom. The wind was howling; it was cold; I was tired; I didn't answer. When we got home my phone beeped signaling a message. (A ten-minute message!) I was too tired to listen. A few minutes later my phone rang again. I sighed and picked it up.

Me: Hello?

Mom: Honey! How are you? Say, do you know what a TomTom is?

Confession #2: Slim Jims

Our mouse was not the slightest bit interested in our Hav-a-Heart trap. When we told Larry that we put organic peanut butter in the trap he laughed. Everybody knows that mice don't like organic peanut butter! He said his professional pest control person uses a Slim Jim cut up into tiny pieces, and that Slim Jims work every time. It's a fundamental truth that rodents love Slim Jims.

So we got rid of the organic peanut butter traps and Tom came home with another trap and a Slim Jim. I ripped open the Slim Jim, and began cutting it up. Then I ate the Slim Jim.

If you have a confession you'd like to share, I'd be grateful to hear it.

Our Only Em

We washed and vacuumed the Nebulous. And this evening we chauffeured Em and John to B* for Em's birthday (which was actually November 26). This proved to be a great little place: comfortable, friendly, delicious.

Tea Leaf Salad
Thai Salmon Green Curry Pot Pie
Sauvignon Blanc
Coconut Ice Cream
Fresh Strawberries
Espresso

Another Shopping Success

This lighted sign is at the bus stop across the street from Amoeba Music, where I found the Beatles' White Album for $7.99. That's 30 songs, including Blackbird, which was the one song I just had to possess.

You still can't download Beatles from iTunes or Amazon. I'm leary of free music-sharing sites. Are you?

Porcelain Cat Spoons $2.29 Apiece

Found yesterday at Kamei Restaurant Supply on Clement.

House and Garden

That's our garden. It's December and we're ready to plant. We can't seem to keep track of the seasons here.

Gardening isn't my specialty. I went to Three Bees Garden Center to look at plants. Someone mentioned elephant thyme and I liked the sound of that; I realized later they had said elfen thyme. I'm wondering about starting with a base of elfen thyme. Though I think the dirt itself looks very neat.

Note to Amy Tan: In the book The Bonesetter's Daughter, the mother LuLing lives in the Richmond District, where my house and garden is. Not the Sunset. The Sunset is south of Golden Gate Park. This error upset me and I had to stop reading the book for a few days. But I'm back to it now. I enjoy reading about places I know: I had sea cucumber at Fountain Court when we first moved here; and today I was at Green Apple Annex, where Fia and Dory run out to buy a CD.

Hello Again, Life

Copyright ©2008 Richard La Fond

I dial Mom's number.

She doesn't even say hello. Just loudly, indignantly: I'm watching Victor Borge!

I can't begin to tell you how Mom's newly-evolved state of mind has freed me up in every way, in play and work. She's had some backslides–but for five days now, no big ones that I know of.

Life Imitates Cartoon

No one's going to believe this so I'll go ahead and tell it anyway. Today the mouse wasn't in either of the traps. But there was some shredded spongy substance on the floor by the dishwasher and by the oven. I'm guessing that the spongy substance was probably insulation and that the mouse has two residences, one under each appliance.

Guess what I was busy animating today? A hiding mouse. He's lounging in an armchair by the fire. When Maria calls him, he jumps up and runs behind the chair. (In case you're wondering, Maria is the nice Spanish lady he shares a house with.)

Is this uncanny? YES! Tomorrow I'll do an animation of me discovering a bucket of cash in the basement and see what happens.

Mouse

Today I was working on another mouse animation. I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I ignored it.

About 20 minutes later, I saw the thing run and squeeze under my door into the living room. It was a real mouse. In my house. I grabbed my camera first, and then a tupperware box to place on top of him, and a piece of cardboard to slide under the box.

I talked softly and reassuringly to him but couldn't get the mouse to come out from where he was hiding. So I opened the front door and left the room, thinking maybe he'd leave of his own volition. I remembered reading on Sally's blog that she had discovered a mouse in her house last year. I went back and re-read her post so I would know what to do.

It's funny how when you're reading about a mouse in somebody else's house, you don't really comprehend the gravity of the situation. I had thought at the time that her mouse looked cute! The fact that she was having company for dinner that evening and that the mouse could have jumped up into the eggplant dish never even crossed my mind.

Tom called on his way home and I told him about the mouse. I told him I had found Sally's Hav-a-Heart trap on Amazon and was getting ready to order it. He made a u-turn in the middle of Stanyon Street and doubled back to Cole Hardware. He said we had to have the trap today; and I could tell he didn't think I was the brightest bulb in the chandelier for leaving the front door open.

I put organic peanut butter in the traps. Crunchy, my fave. But I was dismayed to read that you were supposed to place the traps on your counter top and well as on your floor. Can mice really climb up on counters? I just finished a snoring-mouse animation, but I never dreamed that a mouse could climb up on a real bed and get under the covers. But if a mouse can climb up on a counter, there are no limits to where he can go. Let's just hope it is a he. More tomorrow.

Sea Change

The first day since Mom's move into the memory area that she didn't call me during the day, and then again in the evening. In fact, I finally called her this evening. I don't know what it will be like tomorrow, but this evening she seemed to be thriving. She said that Aggles, along with her friends Journey and Florita (whose names she doesn't remember until I guess) had made her feel much better.

One thing she said: I'm realizing that not everybody looks down on me for living here. Not everybody looks down on people whose brains don't work right. I'm realizing that I was the snooty one. I think all my life I looked down on people whose brains didn't work right.

Ocean Beach Candy Box

p.s. Whatever you do, do not go see A Christmas Tale.

Not Quite Over It

It's hard for me to write about Thanksgiving. Mary Ann can do it. She seems well-adjusted in every way. Anyone who can write about Thanksgiving and not be: 1. sappy or 2. bitter deserves a medal of honor.

Thanksgiving has been a blog-blot for me before this year. Blog-blot means it's something I've ignored on my blog. My dad died a few days before Thanksgiving and that probably colors the holiday.

I write about tiny things–not political or world issues, and sometimes I feel funny about it. I'm thankful that Obama is elected–I admired the picture in the paper of his family serving Thanksgiving dinner to people in south side. And I'm sad about other violent things going on. I texted Aggles last night to ask her how she was after having spent two days with Mom, and she texted back: Stunned by events in mumbai.

On Thanksgiving morning before Aggles got there, I spoke with Mom. She said, "This is not a good Thanksgiving." On Thanksgiving evening she told me that at dinner someone had asked her how she liked her new living situation, and before she could think, she said, "Oh, it's terrible." These are the things that throw me for a loop.

Thanksgiving can be a big fat duffel bag stuffed with emotions: sad and tense and happy.

Some little big things I appreciated today:

Peet's coffee (Major Dickason)
Walking on the Coastal Trail
Uggs
Shirts without sewn-in tags
My Wacom tablet
Joe Pass & Jimmy Rowles CD (Katy)
My Canon digital Elph
Detective Frost DVD (Barbara & Larry)
The Bonesetter's Daughter (Amy Tan)
Aggles

Good Night

Yesterday afternoon Mom called in a great mood. Clare had come over and taken her to Barnes & Noble. Going to the travel section and looking at books on the Galapagos Islands changed her whole outlook on life. When I hung up, I felt free to take some photos. I tried shooting things on sand.

When Mom's happy, I can work. We never used to have this kind of connection. In fact, she used to drive me up the wall. And I know I drove her over the edge.

Keeping Up Appearances

Can you believe it? One of my rock photos made it into the Tate Modern.

OK, I lied. Mean Jean did it, and then Sally did it, so I hadda do it. And now you can, too! Go to Dumpr and upload an image of your own.

And oh, by the way. Have I posted my New Yorker covers? Since you may not have seen them on the news stand, I'll run them by you.

This one is called Find Yourself:





























And this one is called Feelings.












































Oops!

Gumbo

I have $500 in cash, so I took Tom out to dinner tonight at Cajun Pacific. A few months ago he had assured me that Obama could not win. He wanted Obama to win but he was sure Obama couldn't win.

Me: How much do you want to bet?

Tom: Five dollars.

Me: Oh please. Put your money where your mouth is.

Tom: OK. Five hundred dollars.

We shook on it.

Today I'm overwhelmed by happiness at this news: Word of Cabinet appointments by President-elect Barack Obama flew fast and furious late Friday afternoon: Sen. Hillary Clinton (D-NY), his archrival for the Democratic nomination, is his choice for secretary of state...

I know there's a lot of politics (ha!) involved; but still, it's my dream come true. That they'll work together.

On another note, I knew as I was straightening my hair that tonight–going out with Tom–would be one of the best nights of my life. For no reason other than we're still together after having met in Whitney Leland's drawing class in 1973, and we're both still alive. (My dad died when he was 48 and my mom was 46.) We still like each other most of the time. We're still shy. But we like wine and gumbo and movies. I'm also happy because A Christmas Tale opened today at the Bridge, at the edge of our neighborhood right down Geary.

Good night.

Bedtime Story: Chapter 2

© Linda Davick
Namowal asked: What mode of transportation will our friend be using? Helicopter? Flying ship? Hogwarts style train? Giant Grasshopper (with seatbelts?)

This cat will be taking the subway, as shown.

Bedtime Story

© Linda Davick
Here we are bright and early at Grand Central Station in Sea Ranch, California. This cat's headed to the big city for an overnight adventure. His girlfriend Mabel is singing at the Glas Kat. He's already reserved a private room at the Pontiac Hotel.

A Kiss and a Hug

I bought a bag full of these charms last Thursday night ON SALE. God!!
I can't get enough of the macro setting on my camera. When I'm pushing the button down halfway to get the image in focus–and I'm seeing the image come into focus–it's like taking a bite of gooey triple-layer fudge cake. The charms are actually about half the size that they appear in the photo.

Amuse-bouche!

© Linda Davick

Today I was back outside shooting close-ups of little objects and getting extreme pleasure from it. I wondered what the heck I was doing. Then at lunch I happened to read an article in today's Chronicle that offered 5 Tips for an Inviting Holiday Table:

1. Make a centerpiece from what's in your garden and refrigerator. (GROSS!)

2. Always have a light source on your table. (Yes. Candles are nice.)

3. Leave the wine and water on the table so guests can feel free to serve themselves. (YES! YES! A thousand times, YES!)

4. Mix family heirlooms and keepsakes with new things for a modern combination. (blah, blah, blah.)

5. ...have amuse-bouches waiting at the table when guests are seated... ) WHAT!!?

I jumped out of my chair. Amuse-bouches??? The word thrilled me. Suddenly I knew what I had been shooting all this time were none other than amuse-bouches.

I looked up amuse-bouche in the dictionary. No such word. I googled it, and according to Wikipedia:

An amuse-bouche[1](\'ä-müz-'büsh, -muez-\),[2] also called an amuse-gueule, is a single, bite-sized hors d’œuvre. Amuse-bouche are different from appetizers in that they are not ordered from a menu by patrons, but, when served, are according to the chef's selection alone. These, often accompanied by a complementing wine, are served as an excitement of taste buds to both prepare the guest for the meal and to offer a glimpse into the chef's approach to cooking.

The term is French, literally translated to "mouth amuser" [for bouche = mouth; amuser = to amuse, to please]. The plural form is amuse-bouche or amuse-bouches.[3] The original French word, more frequently employed, is amuse-gueule (gueule is slang for mouth but in fact means animal's mouth (one word in French)), although amuse-bouche is more often used on menus in fine dining restaurants.[4]

Even though I had photographed each object on a pink tablecloth, "mouth amuser" was not quite right. But close. Mine were more "eye amusers." So I looked up eye in French and discovered that what I'm making might be amuse-oeil. Not as fun to say as amuse-bouche, but I'm on the right track in figuring out what I'm doing.

But say you were making amuse-bouches (mouth-amusers, not eye-amusers) for your guests. What would they be? Mine would be a tiny chocolate cupcake, thick frosting, with a pastel buttermint on top. A charm would be in the center of each cupcake. On second thought, I'd probably hire Mari to make my amuse-bouches. Tom said his amuse-bouche would be one garlic shrimp on top of a noodle.

Proof that Pluto is a Planet

Ava Bussman

By now it's obvious that my readers are much more interested in The Pluto Debate than in hearing me go on about my daily life. So I thought I'd post this chart I found in Ava's room to lure you back, and to prove once and for all that not only is Pluto a planet, but it's a purple planet. (See arrow.)

Today is the first day in 3 months that I haven't talked to Mom on the phone. Usually she calls during the day, and then again after she's eaten dinner.

Yesterday morning she called frantic because she couldn't get in touch with Aggles. She said she had left four messages for Aggles and had not heard back. She was worried that Aggles didn't have enough food and was convinced that Aggles didn't have a refrigerator in her apartment. I assured her that Aggles had plenty of food and reminded her that Aggles worked in an office during the day and couldn't answer her phone while she was working.

But back to today. I haven't mentioned one of the best discoveries we've made lately. It's a service called Tennessee Home Helpers run by Clare Parker. Her business provides dependable, lively, interesting people to help elderly people out. They help out any kind of people, really.

Clare recently introduced Mom to a woman named Journey, and they seem to have hit it off. Journey will be visiting Mom for a couple of hours three times a week. Wednesday Journey took Mom to the main living area to get a haircut–Mom has to have someone accompany her when she leaves her hall, which is locked–and then she stayed and ate dinner with Mom. Tonight she's taking Mom out to dinner and to see a play that her cousin's in.

But back to Clare, who runs the business. She's an amazing person: smart, intuitive, and fun. Her husband runs the part of the business that does repairs and handy work for people. Last Friday Clare and her husband John picked Mom up and took her on a drive to Monteagle Mountain to see the fall leaves and to have lunch. Folks, this is not your average sitter service.

But back to my conversation with Mom yesterday. She said, "I think tonight's the night Nature? ... No, Travel? ... is taking me out."

Me: Mom! You mean Journey! (we both laugh). No, That's tomorrow night.

From: Linda
Date: November 14, 2008 2:25:18 PM PST
To: Aggle

Aggle, Mom hasn't called today! I don't know whether to be happy or worried SICK. (I think I'll be happy.)

Forget Meditation, Forget Nachos

Pluto's what matters.

From: Aggles
Subject: There are 9
Date: November 13, 2008 5:52:09 AM

Don’t know if you communicate w/ StrayG other than through your blog but if you do here’s a little something for her. It’s my favorite picture from the uproar over the demotion of Pluto.

Aggles' Nacho Meditation

Aggles tailored this meditation technique especially for me:

Here’s a nice little meditation for you to experiment with. Set a length time for however long you’d like to do this – 8 to 10 minutes is plenty fine.

Sit somewhere nice and comfortable and close your eyes lightly. Let your awareness settle on any physical or emotional sensations going on. Just gently feel the sensations. No need to analyze or give words to them. (If words come just let them flit away as you go back to being aware of the sensation.) If no sensations in particular come forth just very lightly become aware of your sensation of your breath in your nose as you inhale and exhale.

When your 8 to 10 minutes is up, do a stretch or two for a minute or two (still sitting) until you’re ready to get up. Light activity is always nice after this. I suggest eating nachos or throwing a load of laundry in the washer.

Don’t hassle the meditation. It will be what it will be. It will take you where you need to go. Don’t be concerned w/ whether or not you are doing it right. Let it go. No need to analyze the experiment or analyze the after effects in your daily life. No need to search for evidence that this is “working.” Let it go and eat some chips and dip.

Photo + Illo!

© Linda Davick
& Whistlefritz

Low Tide

I've never considered myself a social person, but I'm so surprised by how good it feels to get comments from my friends when I post something sad. I think I depend on people an awful lot.

When I first started blogging I attended a get-together in San Jose. At the time I didn't know anyone personally who blogged and so I was really hungry to meet other women who blogged.

Through this conference I came into contact with some interesting women and made careful lists of their blogs. But when I returned home I found that most of the blogs I had collected were written by depressed writers who were going through crisis after crisis. I got the impression that you had to be troubled in order to write a respectable blog. I read several of the blogs on my list avidly for a few months, but the crises never seemed to let up and then I had had enough. Such an oddball introduction to blogging made me never want to be that kind of blogger.

So thanks for listening and for the comfort you give. Luci even sent me this photo of her son's new collection: paper airplanes. It knocked me off my feet! She says he makes a new one each day, so there will be more and more.

Happy Birthday, Katy

Warning: Not A Pretty Picture

Today I woke up in a good mood and made a plan. I decided I would be happy no matter how today's phone conversation with Mom went.

Around 4:00 I was winding down, and starting to get a little anxious. I knew Mom would be calling. I was tired, so I lay down but couldn't fall asleep. The phone rang and it was Mom.

Mom: Honey, I can't find my toothbrush. I haven't been able to brush my teeth for days. My teeth feel like carpet.

Me: Mom, I know you said you found your toothbrush on the floor yesterday. I told you to wash it off. Did you?

Mom: I tried to. But now it's disappeared again. What can I do? ... And how long will I be here? Can you tell me that? And why am I here?

Me: I'm going to call the front desk and see if they have a toothbrush. I'll call you right back, OK?

I get in touch with Mona, who's in charge of Mom's hall. She tells me that she was just in Mom's apartment 20 minutes ago and found her toothbrush and put it in her hand. But that she'll go back and find it again. I call Mom back.

Me: Hi, Mom! Mona's on her way over to help you find your toothbrush.

Mom: Oh, wait a minute, Honey. Mona's here, with another grown-up.

I hear Mom exclaim: Where did you find that? And I hear Mona tell her, Exactly where I put it before ... I'm going to go ahead and put toothpaste on it for you, and get you in your pajamas, OK?

I ask Mom to call me back once she's brushed her teeth and she agrees. A half hour later the phone rings.

Me: Mom, hi! So did you brush your teeth?

Mom: NO!

Me: Well why not?

Mom: I just ate!

Me: (laughing) Oh, OK. But you know where your toothbrush is, now, right?

Mom: No! And I'm really worried because I'm afraid that bug is going to reappear any minute.

Me: Bug? What bug?

Mom: He went behind the cushions.

Me: How big was he?

Mom: Oh, about half the size of my index finger.

Me: AGGGGHHH! You might have to pull the fire alarm and evacuate the building.

Mom: What?

Me: Oh nothing. That's awful. Well, guess what. We have bugs, too.

Mom: I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep tonight.

Me: I meant to ask you ... Did you get to watch Keeping Up Appearances last night?

Mom: I'm not sure. I meant to. I had it marked. ... Oh!

Me: What's wrong?

Mom: My nose is bleeding.

Me: Is it bad?

Mom: Yes, it's pretty bad.
.....................

When I hang up Tom asks me if I'm ready to go for a walk. Then he says: What happened? Take it off and go soak it in cold water.

I look down and see that the front of my shirt has blood on it and I realize I've been digging my nails into my neck the whole time I've been talking to Mom.

Tom and I walk on the Coastal Trail. I'm in a terrible mood. Everyone's in my way. Why do people walk three abreast? I step on a little orangish poodle's foot as I'm trying to pass his family. The poodle screams and I apologize profusely. It's too late. My plan didn't work and I've fallen into the abyss.

Liver Lover

order your plush toy liver here

Do you like to have a drink or two in the evening? Does your doctor caution you about your liver? If so, here's a recipe I call the Liver Lover. I learned about this from Mary Ann last year. Since then I've made sure to knock back one Liver Lover every evening without fail, and so far my liver remains intact.

ingredients:

1 cup of hot water (or room temp. if in hurry)

juice of one lime (or healthy squirt from screw-top plastic lime)

Mix and swallow. Uncork bottle of wine and drink with impunity.

If you're the kind of person who finds it tedious to follow a link, here's the nitty gritty straight from Mary Ann's blog, which she actually cut and pasted from Ms. Beetnik's Breast Cancer Adventure blog:

Every time I go to see Efrem Korngold at Chinese Medicine Works, he works on my liver because my liver, which is an incredibly important organ, is weak. Like the majority of other Americans, I've led a life of excess ... too many unhealthy, over-processed foods that have had all the nutrients sucked or bleached out of them, too much work and not enough play, too much worrying about money money money ... all of which overtaxed me and my poor liver.

What happens when your liver isn't working optimally? Well, its job is to rid your body of numerous nasty toxins. If that doesn't happen, you end up f....cking yourself over in oh so many ways ...

But if you don't want to do acupuncture or get the herbs, here are two simple tips for strengthening your liver: 1) Drink a cup of hot water with the juice of one lime in it every day (or as often as you want), and 2) Add 1/2 to 1 tsp. a day of lecithin granules to your diet.

Efrem said that the lime drink is like "giving your liver a big hug."

Thanks, Mary Ann–although it worries me a little that I can't seem to locate Ms. Beetnik or her blog anymore.

Still Celebrating

Happy about the election, today I celebrated by getting a blue streak. You can, too. Go to Acme Head and Body and ask for Kimberly.

What's Black and White and Red All Over?

Here's one of those stories that makes it impossible for me to cancel my subscription. About an architect named David Trachtenberg, I read it at dinner along with takeout from Pagan on Clement.

"I think simplicity is a virtue," Trachtenberg said of his designs. "It's hard to make things simple. It's easy to make things complicated." He never worries about creating too simple or severe a space because "buildings are the stage on which lives are lived." Simply put, human lives fill out built spaces.

Another taste:

"One of the secrets of old buildings is they have a very limited materials palette," Trachtenberg said. "Any old, indigenous building has what's locally available. They had one kind of stone and a couple kinds of trees they could use, and maybe somebody made a clay tile." In charming old places, such as Italian hill towns, people unconsciously sense and appreciate the "rightness of the buildings," primarily because of their limited palettes, Trachtenberg said. In houses built today, he said, materials from India, China and Kansas are used, creating an unworkable hodgepodge.

It's 8:00 pm, My Friends

A Good Question

It's fun reading other people's mail, isn't it? Here's part of an e-mail message I received today: (Names have been changed to protect the lazy writer's identity)

... Today is my sister’s birthday. Andrew was busy making her gift last week. He used in conjunction to his “science” experiment. He had totally forgotten to inform his teacher that Jean does not live close by anymore. Now they are wondering how to ship her gift without it melting on the way. In the midst of economic instability, my sister quit her job and moved to San Diego. Jean has the need to accomplish more. She is competitive, driven, and focused in her goals. She knew that she had reached the highest she could in her previous job, and was not willing to complacently wait for her boss to retire to get the top spot. She moved on to a bigger field with more space to expand and endless possibilities. I did not know about this until I heard it second hand from my aunt.

I am known for my non-ambitious nature in the family a.k.a. lazy. But I do admire my sister’s boldness in taking the step to expand her wings. I understand her need to fly and soar. Every persons have different songs that they soul sing. It’s just while singing their song, they should never forget that their worth is never determined by how well they sing their song.

As a very lazy person with not much things to brag about I learned to understand my worth not from my accomplishments or my knowledge. Such things do not last. One can be brilliant, let’s say, in music. Then something happened to his playing hands. Poof, the gem is gone. One can be a genius. A nasty bump to the head scrambles his brain. Kapoosh, the gem is gone. Worth must go further than skill and talent. What do you based yours upon, Linda? What makes your soul sing? What makes you feel confident? What do you based your worth upon?

This question really bothers me. So I want to skip over me and move on to you. What do you base your worth on?