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Easter Mystery

Easter Mystery

Why is it that I only permit myself the luxury of eating egg salad at Easter, or for a few days beyond Easter Sunday? I had it today and enjoyed it on a toasted roll.

Since I was about fifteen years old until present day I have performed the egg coloring ritual. That is every year except one when I decided it was silly since I had no children living at home. Truly, that year was a disaster. I felt incomplete, so much so that I never made that foolish mistake again. Not so easy to give up lifelong tradition. Besides no egg salad.

Sure, it doesn’t have to be Easter to make egg salad, but there is something special about that sandwich speckled with pretty pink, purple, teal, and emerald hues that enhances the culinary experience. Some may think the colors make it gross, but not so.  I love it!

There are a few rules that come along with my egg salad. You only eat it with close family. No unnecessary ingredients, ie celery, should not be added.The crunch could be mistaken for a shell, heaven forbid. If you are sitting across from someone, don’t look at their face while enjoying your fare. If they are not aware of the rules you are permitted to sit with your back to the table while indulging in your own sandwich. No drinking from an open glass while you have food in your mouth. And finally, never ever share a bite. I am certain that anyone who has been in the company of a sloppy egg salad eater will appreciate my rules.  Perhaps these rules should be in every egg carton from the month before the Holiday right up until the day.

I am pleased to have shared these words of wisdom with you all. Hope you have had a Happy Easter, Happy Passover, and your Spring is delicious.

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Posted by on April 21, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Fifty-Nine – Plus


GE DIGITAL CAMERANot too long ago I was speaking with a friend about his job. Joey is a forty something guy who had recently finished school with the hope of entering a different field of employment. Like most newcomers the pay scale was at the low-end, but he was confident it would grow in a reasonable amount of time. He confided in me, until that time, in order to supplement his income, he had been doing online surveys and was receiving checks for his effort.

This information struck that busy bell in my head that was always ready to alert me to an opportunity for making a couple of bucks.

I could do this too! I have the tools and the time and no shortage of opinion about everything under the sun. As is my wont, I searched out the websites the very next day and began filling out applications. Sure enough the invitations for surveys began to flow.

But WAIT there’s more.

Before you can take each survey you must answer some questions about yourself, sex, homeowner or not, range of income, primary shopper, children in the home, AGE group, etc.

Of course I replied honestly to all the questions. What good is a survey if you’re not telling the truth? Shortly, a pattern emerged. Emails to me with the same prominent statement.
“Thank you, but you do not fit the control group’s profile.”

Well, I may not walk quite as fast as I use to, but my gray matter still fizzes, clicks and percolates at top speed. After three or four of these notices, I got the message.

Your opinion is irrelevant. You checked 59 +. No one cares what you think.

Wow, talk about being hit with a bucket of cold water. Discarded like a pair of paint stained cargo pants. Damn!!!

Sure, I was insulted, but it also didn’t make a whole lot of sense. 59 + still own homes, have more expendable income, shop like crazy, use detergent, shampoo, beauty products, renovate their homes, go out to dinner, buy cars, spray fabreeze, go grocery shopping.

We have pets, go on vacations, watch movies, change diapers, buy toys, drink booze, and know a hell more about medication than our younger counter parts. And we vote! I could on, but I won’t. You get the idea.

So when did I become irrelevant? I believe what I think matters. Perhaps
some power that be should rethink their Control Groups as it is just a blink of an eye before they are checking 59 +.

 
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Posted by on March 11, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

A sock a shoe


It is some forty years ago when the extremely controversial show, ‘All in the Family’, first hit the television airwaves.  We watched it on our black and white sets and couldn’t wait to hear the pearls of wisdom that would drop from Archie’s, Cimagearroll O’Connor, mouth each and every week.  He was bigotry at its infamous best.

Perhaps it was the first time that America threw open the windows and allowed a peek into the mind of the passing generation.  Archie said things aloud that many people secretly harbored in their hearts.  It was shock TV and we ate it up.

For years Rob, Archie’s liberal son-in-law played by Rob Reiner, was the recipient of his father-in-laws confused, mean, wrong, and half-baked outbursts.  Debates that would ensue were priceless.  One that stuck with me and I think about each and every day was a Sock a sock, a shoe a shoe.

Archie became outraged when he discovered that when dressing Rob would put a sock and a shoe on one foot, then complete by doing the same on the other, rather than sock sock, shoe shoe.  He shouted all the reasons Rob was a meathead for doing it his crazy way.  One reason being, if you had to rush out of the house suddenly wearing only one sock and one shoe it would necessitate having to hop around in the snow.  Of course it would be snowing.

This scene has stuck with me all these years.  Just the other day I rebelliously donned a sock and a shoe and intentionally hopped around the bedroom for a minute.  Then I got nervous that it might snow.

I would be remiss if I did not give a nod to the great Edith, Jean Stapleton, and Gloria, Sally Struthers, who completed the genius casting.

 
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Posted by on January 19, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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The Purge


imageEvery New Year I resolve to purge the files in my home office.  I have at least 500 pentaflex hangers, but apparently I don’t sub divide enough.  All pertinent household purchases are stuffed into two or three files.  Insurance of every kind is bulked together in one.  No matter if its health, car, house, or appliance.  Have you any idea how much paper is generated by insurance?  Premium notices, amendments to polices, polices themselves, invitations to upgrade or trade in, all stuffed into one file.

Oh, recipes are awarded about five file folders, however they are in four different cabinets with no rhyme or reason what is contained where.  I wonder why I keep all these random recipes since I have about thirty cook books and look up most new recipes online.

I keep a folder for the special occasion cards I have received over some forty years, and feel ungrateful if I discard even one, especially if they were designed and handcrafted by one of my beautiful grandchildren.  And tell me how does one tear up Birthday, Anniversary, and Valentine Day cards from your spouse?  It took me the first ten years of our marriage to convince him that receiving these cards was very important to me and if I didn’t get one, on the day of my special event, there would be all hell to pay.

Yes, tis the season to purge.  I began today.  I threw out the warranty of the refrigerator that was replaced six years ago.  Aw well, tomorrow is another day.

 
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Posted by on January 15, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Baby it’s Cold Outside

Baby it’s Cold Outside

Most of the United States is experiencing a deep freeze. In New York we are seeing and feeling some of the PARKBENCHcoldest weather in twenty years.

My moods run the gamut from elated to grumpy, solely weather related.

I’m happy to be inside away from the ice and snow (parts of the Midwest were 9 degrees colder than Siberia today). The cold makes me indoor productive. Cooking soups, stews, chowders, roasts, and the purging of drawers, bookcases, closets, medicine cabinets. It seems I’ve had pills stored away since 1998. I clean and scrub more in the Winter, and go around smelling things. I have a dread fear of houseatosis. Generally, I’m more creative and ambitious when the temperature plunges. Did I mention I love to cuddle with a book, blanket, hubby and puppy in a cozy home.

What makes me grumpy is the fear of slipping on the ice during the short time I am outside. The nuisance of having to don shoes, coat and sometimes hat just to get the mail. Leaving the paper on the driveway because it’s too much of a pain to retrieve it. I can’t train my chihuahua to get it, the newspaper weighs more than he does. And the chill that sets in when I slip out to the patio in order to snip the still growing parsley for those bubbling meals, boy I really don’t like to shiver. What also makes me growl is the occasional bouts of cabin fever. I want to run down the block with the wind in my hair, even though I haven’t run for anything since June, 2000.

It’s January 6th, 2014 and we have about four months before once again. storing Winter coats. By then I will be super literate, have a sparse medicine cabinet, and a sterile home. I might be a few pounds heavy from the Winter weather fare, but it will be warm enough to go clothes shopping. For now I will engage in superior couch cuddling. You should do the same.

Baby it’s cold outside!

 
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Posted by on January 6, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

A Heartfelt Smile


HappyEnglish: Chihuahua puppies

Cover of "Kittens (Complete Pet Owner's M...

Puppies, Kittens, Babies all make us smile each in their own way. Why is it the diminutive creatures fill us with that feel good glow? They really can’t do anything physically for us. Not one would qualify as an assistant to help with the everyday rigors of life.

I’ve never seen a puppy rake leaves, a kitten cook dinner, or the baby pay the bills. What madness would ensue should we permit it. The puppy rolling and prancing in the leaves, scattering them all about. The raspy pink tongue of the kitten lapping delicately at cream in the cooking pot. And the baby cooing as she shreds the electric bill, grasping it with a chubby hand, stuffs it, return envelope and all, Into her rosebud mouth.  No power tomorrow!

Nope you don’t get that warm, fuzzy, feeling because of what they can do for you, but rather because we are needed by them and they are so cute. The little beings, brimming with new life, look to us for their every need. They trust the trust of the very young and innocent and we, the adults in their life, are their heroes. Not caped or with super powers, but heroes none the less.  We take care of them and it makes us feel great.

No matter if your clothes are not fashionable, or your hair uncombed, the baby hugs and suffers the hundreds of kisses you slobber all over her face. The puppy worships you day in and day out, even if you forget to bend down and pat him on the head when you come home from work. And the kitten, well the kitten allows you to live with him.

Feeling blue? You cannot stay that way when witnessing a puppy playing chase in the mirror, the kitten tangled in a pink ball of yarn, or especially the baby wrapping their entire hand around your index finger. All an incredible  and unparalleled manifestation of love.

If you are lucky enough to live with or visit a baby,puppy, or kitten, I guarantee that you will not be able to suppress a much-needed heartfelt smile.

 
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Posted by on November 26, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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The Myth of Predictability


Monkey wrench

Monkey wrench (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Each moment leads into an hour. Hours stack into days, and those days into years. One thing I’ve come to learn over these flowing years is the predictable really doesn’t exist.

Sure we can make plots and plans, draw blueprints and save our pennies toward a perceived goal, but more often than not life throws the proverbial monkey wrench into the machinations of our works.

Have you ever made detailed plans that worked out exactly as you had planned for?  I am not speaking about dinner dates, or going away for the weekend, but rather long-term goals.  Something that is really a great idea in 2012 may not look so good in 2013.  Finances, Health, Opinions, change.  Responsibilities pull us in another direction.  How can we predict what the outcome of the Lottery might be?  Does a person with a $35,000 annual income want the same vacation as a multi million dollar winner?

A new baby or the death of a close family member changes the priorities of life.  Nothing is status quo or would we want it to be?  How boring life would be.

We could attempt to predict what someone’s reaction will be to any particular piece of news, but how often are we right?  Human beings by their very nature are unpredictable.  Perhaps you would expect that telling someone about a coming trip would make them happy, instead they pitch a fit.  Wrong date, time, or destination.  How could you ever have predicted that a surprise trip would make someone unhappy?

I could go on and on about the outcome of circumstances being unpredictable, but dear reader I predict that you are smart enough to get where I am going.

In my opinion there is no such thing as predictability!

 
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Posted by on November 4, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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