Day 2 Day radishes

June 28/ knives

My family from Brazil has come,and how fun it is.  We are getting organized.  From time to time I  will have a guest columnist. Yesterdays author was Callie.  I am thrilled to have her here.  As I write,she is making shortcake for the short season strawberries.  I am pretty excited to have her  culinary and computer skills.  Precious few others in this family like making short bread.

For most of my culinary life, which started when I was ten making salads, I have been washing knives by hand, especially after purchasing the more expensive knives, I have always washed them by hand.  It is good for the handles and good for the blades. I scathingly whip anyone who put the knives in the dishwasher. This is a secret,  I do not want my daughters to know this, but for about two months I have been putting my knives in the dishwasher.  One librarian told me, if you are over 50, you should read the first 50 pages of a book, before you give up.Then for each year over 50, you can subtract a page. Now. I only have to read 38 pages.  These knives in the dishwasher are a similar thing. Like everyone knows, you have to give a book a break.  But sometimes you just have to follow your heart, and just throw the bloody knives in the dishwasher.   

June 27/ Arrival

Today, I, Callie, will be posting for Grandmere, as per request.  I am supposed to "talk" about our pre-arrival and arrival to Camano Island. 

Well, first, we were all at the Towne's home (except for Randy who had already gone home for Brazil one day before), so we said our fair-wells.  Ali, the eldest cousin, had to leave earlier for her marine-biology camp, at which she could dissect sharks, learn about erosion, and much more.  The Rogers grandparents came along to see us, along with Paul and Jess who also came, off.  We left in a large van that could miraculously fit in all of our luggage.  A man named "Sid" was the chauffer, who had been our driver before.  It was pretty hard to find some service to provide a large enough car, but good 'ole Sid was ready to do his job.  As one of the agents at a car service put it, "We don't do cars that big.  Period.". 

At the airport in Jacksonville, we found out that both our and Paul and Jess's flights had been delayed by at least 45 minutes.  To pass the time, we ate a leisurely lunch at a brewery (in the airport).  The hamburger Jess had ordered was awful, so she ended up ordering a plate of kid's chicken fingers.  (They didn't charge the burger- other customers had been displeased, too.)  Then we parted our seperate ways.

We boarded a tiny, crammed, 50-person plane headed to Houston, TX; and sat in the very back.  Not fun.  But before we actually got on, we had to gate-check the bags as a result of the size of the plane.  Because I slept most of the way, I am not aware of what went on, so you'll be in the dark for that one.  Moving on...

Once we had gotten off the plane, we fast-walked to the gate for Seattle and just barely made it.  Phew!  That flight took four hours, and it felt L-O-N-G.  I slept some more on that one.  Will and I sat next to a 65-yr. old woman who had lived up in Anchorage, Alaska as a kid.  She told us a couple of stories about how her father encountered great big grizzly bears.  This plane was a bigger one with a TV/row.  The movie playing was called "Glory Road".  Will watched the whole thing, but I only tuned-in for the last few minutes.  Mary-Jane worked some on her cross-stitch.  She's getting pretty good.  All in all, the flight was OK.

Once we finally arrived, we met up with Poppy.  It was then we found out that they had lost Will's baggage, because the Gate-Check tag had apparently fallen off, so they had brought it up to baggage-claim in Houston.  My mother settled the carry-on issue, while we waited around.  Then, we had a man bring our bags to the Sienna, and left.  Mary-Jane was a B-R-A-T almost the whole way.  She would just be annoyed at you if you looked out the wndow.  So she dealt with her frustration in a physical manner.  Ouch!  We got back at around 11:30 and ate pizza.  It was good to get back and see Gmere.

Done.

June 26/ Monday Morning sermon

Sunday as we went into church, the Navy Hymn was being played. I could hear that song every day for the rest of my life, and somehow it would make  me raise my head higher, and stand a little straighter.

As the above should have been a clue, it was Mariner Sunday, and the Gospel reading was Mark's  story of Jesus getting the disciples into the boat to cross over to the "other side".  Apparently, he did this quite a bit.  They came into a storm and the disciples were very afraid, while Jesus slept in the back of the boat. Finally, the disciples go and wake Jesus saying, "Don't you care if we die out here".  Then Jesus says. "Peace, be still!"

Besides the fact that it was Mary Katherine's first memorized bible verse, the importance of the lesson is that we all have storms through which we must travel, and we need to remember to say, "Peace, be still".

When I sailed to Hawaii, there was a huge storm, or I guess I should say there were gigantic waves.  Waves that you rode up and down and you hoped that you kept the boat at an angle that would not "take a wave".  But once we did take a wave, and the cabin below started to fill with water.  "Peace, be still", did not readily come to mind.  I was screaming at God, "Please do not make my babies orphans; don't you care if I die out here? I have a friend who says on occasion, don't bother calling God, because he is on the phone to me. There was no way anyone else could have gotten through to God that night. I will say that the waves were never as high after that dark night. But we moved into a different kind of storm of breathlessness.

Michael and I play a game.  He will say to me, "what is the score?" referring to the baseball game.  We each take a guess and then turn on the radio/television and see who comes closest.  He asked me that yesterday, and remembering it was Mariner Sunday, I said, "six to one". 

June 24/Charles Krauthammer

I sometimes read Charles Krauthammer,a Washington Post columnist since 1985. He wrote a column on June 23, 2006 , that I enjoyed about the Australians and how that country has been such a good ally to the states. He talks about the structure of their national character. There is no white guilt there. No minimalism.   But what was priceless about the article is the following.  Basically this is a quote, plus or minus typos. 

In the Australian House of Representatives last month, opposition member Julia Gillard interrupted a speech by the minister of health thusly: "I move that that sniveling grub over there be not further heard."

For that, the good woman was ordered removed from the House, if only for a day.  She might have escaped that little time-out if she had responded to the speaker's demand for an apology with something other than "If I have offended grubs, I withdraw unconditionally."

June 23/ George

This is George.  This does not show his true personality.  He tries to get his mother to play swords with him.   Soon his cousins will be here and there will be other grandchildren pictures. 

Callie's health report is great from her visit to Johns Hopkins.  Thank you God. 

June 23

This is to help everyone.  It is from a blog, Bad Hair Days,which chronicles the hair do's of celebrities.  I actually do not know how much I can copy from blogs without doing something illegal, so I will risk only telling you that this is Nicole Kidman, who unfortunately has grey hair.  She also looks like she has put a little weight on in her face .

I have a good friend, Ellen, and we used to talk about the year that so and so's face fell.  I do not specifically know my year of face falling, but I could tell you the year of other people's. Without a doubt Nicole's will be early ... and just 39.

June 22/Sacred Heart

This picture is from my freshman  year at the Convent of the Sacred Heart in Menlo Park. We wore blue skirts, white blouses, a blue bolero, and brown oxfords.  Everyone especially loved the brown oxfords.  We had white uniforms for dress occassions, as when the Reverend Mother came down from San Francisco, and on some holy days.  But by far the best uniform was a short pleated shirt dress that we wore over pleated shorts to play stick hockey. Stick hockey could have been a lot of fun, if I would just have let myself enjoy it.  I think this image portrays a picture of composure.

San Francisico, years ago, had a famous paint company neon sign on top of a tall building showing paint pouring over the world.  The bucket would tip and the paint covered the globe, all in neon. This paint company was owned by a father of a class mate.  She invited me to spend the weekend at her house.  She was from a large Catholic family and I took the train from Los Altos up to Hillsborough  to visit.  I saw her Mother once, when she was ready to go to a formal engagement ,and was dressed in her formal and furs.  What impressed me first, was that there was no one in charge.  It was inconceivable that at my house my mother would not be there.  Certainly we were old enough to be on our own, but my mother would have been there to batten down the hatches.   Then, of all things, they had thirteen bathrooms. I was dumbfounded.  Anne never liked me after that weekend.  And I thought nothing of her.  Some things are just "too rich for my blood", as my mother would say. 

June 21/Summer Solstice

Today is the Summer Solstice.  Rejoice and be glad.  I say that, but the summer solstice is always a mixed bag.  The mornings will not be light as early. But I have almost gotten used to the morning light.  I love the light of the evenings, but now I have learned to go to bed when it is light.  In any case, it seems like this day should be celebrated. I like to say to people (as checkers at the grocery store) "Happy Solstice."  Generally they are like deer getting caught in the head lights.  Oh well, I guess that I can say I am looking forward to using candles at the dinner table again.      

June 20/ Missiles

This is my Blog half birthday.   Yeah, radishes!  To be honest, this has gone three months longer than I ever imagined.  I went back, and read my first blog and I had pretty low expectations.  Little did I know, I would enjoy it this much.  Thanks to all of you for reading this blog.

Several days ago I wrote about the earth cooling.  Angst over that is laughable.  Yesterday, I heard that North Korea, indeed, does have the capability to lob a missile over to Seattle.  Although the missiles are not yet delivery accurate, a missile could hit Vancouver, BC, Seattle, Tacoma, or Portland.  Sobering.  And with out question, Japan is in their sites.  Against international objections, Mr. Head North Korea wants to test his 9,300 mile missile. And his missiles have a potential to wipe out a million people at a plop. Life is not important to Mr. Head North Korea, including his own peoples. He is anxious to try out his toys, and he wants, what he wants.    So if we retaliate, and return fire, he doesn't care. 

What do we have going for us?  Not much.  Our best current hope is that one of our US carriers out in the Pacific, can shoot a missile down. Hum.  For this home arm chair commentator, this sounds like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

It is too bad Mr. Head North Korea can't hit Mr. Big Iran.

June 19/ violas

This summer I have discovered how nifty violas are.  There is a huge variety, of which pansies are a part.  But this summer I have looked at the small violas.  I have noticed a lot of them in the nurseries this year.  They are so petite and delicate, come in a variety of colors, although the colors are mostly yellows and blues.    Maybe there is a viola craze going on that I did not know about. 

Today I have been trying to buy more, just a few, because I have found the value of bringing them in the house for a couple of days.  They are very charming, but  after about 4-5 days, they need their sun, I am rotating them in and out of the house.  So, if you are at Rite Aide, or a grocery store, or a nursery, check them out, because for about eight dollars you can have some fun, and I guarantee you the owners are tired of watering them. 

My best pot, so far is my retired rice cooker pan.