I'm getting fat!

Latest installment in the cookie baking going on at my home.  Two more recipes today.

The ones on the left are Willow's delicious cranberry-walnut shortbread cookies.  I am not a fan of shortbread but SWMBO is so I passed Willow's recipe on to her.  She made them.  We BOTH love them.

The ones on the right are Lemon Pepper Cornmeal cookies.  They are also delicious, with a taste of lemon and an aftertaste of black pepper.  Amazing test sensations.

Take a closer look.

I know.  I know.  You're probably getting tired of all this.  But think about me!  My waistline is beginning to look like Mario Batali's!  Ooooohhhh, but they're so goooood!!!

Me and the Duke

I was reading an e-mail from a friend today and she mentioned something about John Wayne.  Whenever I hear his name, it takes me back to a day in the 1970's when I was a television news reporter in Phoenix, Arizona.  To make a long story very short, I wangled (you can look it up, it's in the fictionary) an interview with Wayne on the back patio of his home in Newport Beach, California.

I always said the caption on this picture should be "Isn't it about time for you to get the hell out of here, young fellah?"

Actually Wayne could not have been a nicer guy.  He had been in the hospital a short time before and he died not too long after this interview.  But on that day, he was fantastic.  He treated us well, took a great interest in my photographer's camera, took us inside to show us his huge projection cameras in his screening room, let us fondle his Oscar for True Grit, told us what he thought Richard Nixon should have done with the tapes, and shared a few "inside" stories about his co-stars.  He was a great guy and he even seemed sad to see us leave.  In a 30 year career in radio and television, I have always maintained this was the highlight.

The Duke.  I think we all miss him.

More cookies!!!

Yes, SWMBO has been imbued with the holiday spirit of late.  This dish should have been filled with these apricot/pecan pinwheels but I've been devouring them like a starving man. 

Yummy!

(If you double-click the photo you can almost taste them!)

Hoopin'

As gawd is my witness, I read about this video in the Sunday New York Times.  What to do when you're bored out of your mind.  (And you have a bodyguard close at hand.)  Enjoy!

The softening of Scrooge Catalyst

After my annual Christmas screed last night, I got one of the longest e-mails I've ever received from the BRD.  And it was one of the sweetest.  She remembered many happy things that happened to her on Christmases during her childhood.  One of her fondest stories was about the year she circled several items in "the Christmas catalog" that she'd like to get but did not mark the doll she really wanted because she knew it was too expensive.  Nevertheless, when the presents were opened on Christmas morning, there for her was the doll.  She was amazed and extremely grateful.  But, she said, she was so nervous about it's beauty that she never took it out of its box to play with.  She would look at it, occasionally straighten it's dress, but she kept it prim and pristine for over 20 years!  She finally gave it to her younger sister to give to her first daughter when she got old enough to appreciate it.  Now that's a Christmas story to melt any old Grinch's heart.

And to compound it, SWMBO and I were talking about it and she said the same exact thing happened to her when she was a girl.  Her mother later told her when it arrived in the mail she knew it was a mistake because there was no way they could afford it.  She had a serious moral dilemma that she fought over in her mind for days.  She resolved . . . and this is a woman who had a somewhat casual relationship with religious belief . . . by determining that the doll had come for her daughter by divine intervention.  Well!  What can I say?

What I had forgotten when I was garrumphing (you can look it up, it's in the fictionary) was all the Christmas goodies.  And today that started, with SWMBO's first Christmas cookies coming out of the oven.

Needless to say, they're delicious.

Man, I love the holidays!

Keepin' an eye on the road

I'm pretty well disguised . . . but I can see you!

Christmas Joy - - - or whatever

All right.  Here goes.  It's time for my annual Christmas message.

You see I have a variety of acquaintances.  One is a friend who SWMBO called the other day and asked if she was watching a particular program on television.  "No," she said.  "I was listening to Christmas music." 

She told us once that she just loved the Christmas season because the radio stations played Christmas music all the time.

SWMBO didn't tell her that she avoids Christmas music like the plague!

Then . . . while a nurse was attending me in my cardiologist's office today, I asked "Are you all ready for Christmas?"  (Gawd, how I do hate myself for asking everyone I see at this time of year that ridiculous question.)  The nurse . . . snickered.  No, it was more like . . . snorted.  So then I asked her if she was ready for Thanksgiving.  (Careful followers of daily events will note that Thanksgiving occurred a week ago.)  The nurse said something like "that's about it."  Then she said the words that endeared me to her.  "I just wish I could go to sleep and wake up on January 2nd!"

Now those, I think you'd agree, are the two poles about Christmas.  Quite obviously I fall into the second group.  But I still enjoy my friend from the first group and listen to her tales of Christmas sewing and cooking and baking and planning and shopping and decorating and parties and get-togethers.  She is, quite literally, Mrs. Claus! 

On the other hand, SWMBO and I try to ignore the season as much as possible.  We may attend one or two events.  Or we may not.  We very much enjoy the BRD's annual Christmas Eve steak and lobster dinner.  We may even accidentally watch one of those Christmas movies that tend to tickle the gag reflex.

But I've gone too far.  Let me just say that I could enjoy Christmas a bit more if . . . .

So, what do you think about Christmas?  Go ahead.  I can take a beating.

Remotely Problematical

 Yesterday apparently was my half-zeimers' day.

It began when I was commenting on a blog post by my friend Meggie in Australia.  I was writing about one of our cats, named Blackwell.  Except, I called him Blackwood.

Then, a little later, SWMBO was having a problem at a discount store that refused to accept either of her credit/debit cards.  We both knew that each account had funds in it.  So, I told her on the telephone to go to the bank to get it figured out.  After several permutations, the nice lady at the bank told SWMBO that the problem was with the terminal in the store and had nothing whatsoever to do with her cards.  As a matter of fact, she said, she had had the same problem with the same store with one of HER cards recently.  Apparently the store's card readers get dirty and that's the result.

Of course, as SWMBO was relating this entire story to me, I was getting more and more "worked up" and more than a little ticked off at the store for treating my wife as if she was a common crook and embarrassing her. 

Then I had to go run some errands and when I got to the car I found in my hand (1) the car keys, (2) my small camera that I take with me everywhere, (3) a notebook that also accompanies me, (4) my billfold, and (5) the remote control for one of the television sets in our home!

I walked sheepishly back into the house, handed the remote to SWMBO and said "I don't know what I thought I was going to do with this!" 

She laughed and said "You certainly would have confused me when I tried to turn the television on."

My response, "Maybe you could have tried one of your ATM cards!"

Yes . . . old age is a b_____ but at least it can be amusing some times.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!

I don't care what you say.  It's cold!  Normally when Northerners laugh at Arizonans who are complaining of cold temperatures, it is because the temperature has fallen down into the 60's.  That is not the case today.  It's 12:45 in the afternoon right now and, while sunny, the thermometer says it is stuck at 36 degrees outside with an afternoon high of 39 predicted.  Overnight, the mercury dropped to 19 degrees and we had snow on the ground yesterday morning.  Sure it was just a trace but it was snow.  And it snowed again yesterday afternoon though none of that apparently stuck.

Now don't you Northerners give me a lot of static on this.  I grew up in North Dakota, just about 50 miles from being a Canadian, and I have known some cold, cold days, weeks and months in my time.  But I was smart (or lucky) enough to get out of there 41 years ago and I've managed to live in much warmer climes ever since - Indiana (which had three mild winters while I was there, Arizona, Mexico, Texas and back to Arizona.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the balmy days and nights as opposed to plugging my car in at night to keep it warm enough to start in the morning.  Or shoveling snow.  Or walking daintily on ice.  Or much less daintily through drifts of snow that I hadn't shoveled. 

I like sunshine and warmth.  And right now I only have one of the two.  It's supposed to begin warming up tomorrow, though.  I can't wait.

My old machine

Those of you who read my pacemaker post  get a special treat today.  After my surgery, my nurse came in with a plastic bag and said "I thought you might like to see what we took out of you."

Yup!  That's my old pacemaker.  Presumably there's another one that looks a lot like it back in my body.  Actually, just under the skin up by my collarbone.  At least my heart is still beating and it wouldn't be if they'd forgotten to insert the new miracle machine.

Like a bird on the wire

 30 degrees when I went out to buy a paper this morning.  It appeared the birds were trying to warm up their wings before flying.

This bird has been flying for some time.

Thanksgiving 2010

I probably have more to be thankful for today than on many other days.  Yesterday, I checked into a hospital and spent about 5 hours having my heart pacemaker replaced.  (Actually probably only an hour or two in surgery.)  The old (3-1/2 years) one's battery had gone down far enough to require the new machine.  As one of the nurses told me, they can't recharge them.  That had to do with my telling the nurse about my first pacemaker.  I was in surgery, scrubbed and shaved and hooked up and about ready to go when one of the technicians said "We can't do this!"  Everyone else looked at him in wonder and he said the pacemaker they were about to install in my frame had a very low battery.  Apparently it had been sitting on a shelf somewhere and didn't keep its charge.  That would not have been a good deal for me so they sent me home with instructions to return in a week.

My introduction to pacemakers came after I was visiting my primary care doctor and her nurse couldn't find my pulse!  The doctor ordered an electrocardiogram and, after reading the results, came in and told me I was in atrial fibrillation.  To put it simply, that's an irregular heart beat that can result in strokes and . . . death!

She sent me to a cardiologist who put me through a number of tests before determining that I needed a pacemaker.

People ask if I have a lot more energy since I got it.  No.  Possibly because I have never, to this day, had any symptoms of my heart disease.  Actually, I have less energy these days but I attribute that to getting old(er) and the sedentary life to which I've become accustomed.

At any rate, I found that getting the pacemaker replaced was a piece of cake.  Didn't take long.  All I have is a compression bandage where the doctor sliced and stitched me back up and no pain at all.

Modern medicine continually amazes me.

Fall has fell

If you double click on the photos, you can get a better look at what I have to clean up!

A smoky day

I don't know whether this was a fire caused by nature or a careless camper or a tossed cigarette . . or whether it was what we call in Arizona "a controlled burn".  But it certainly caused a lot of smoke in the area.  By the way, for those who might be concerned, I did take the photo through the windshield of my car but I was stopped at a traffic light.  Don't worry!

Sweet light

Wrigley's day out

Come on, I've posed for your camera but I'm ready now.

Let's go to the Dog Park!

Hey!  The gang's all here!

I tellya . . there is just so much stuff to sniff here.

Wrigley loves to go to the dog park.  Yes he does.

Cautious neighbors

Lots of barking but there are two fences between us.

The week ahead

Well, it's Saturday.  Looks like a fairly quiet week ahead.  The BRD and her Beau Jack are off to Cancun.  SWMBO is house/pet sitting.  So I'll be batching it.  I went to the store the other day and bought three steaks to get me through part of the week.  I'll figure something out for the rest of the time.  I told SWMBO yesterday I probably would cook some lamb chops, to see what they're like.  I've never had them except at a cheap buffet meal and I didn't care for them.  But everyone keeps talking about how good they are.

It doesn't seem to me like there's a lot of meat on 'em but perhaps I'm wrong.  Or perhaps they're richer and one doesn't need a lot of meat.  I just don't know.

Odds are lamb chops won't make it in my door though.  I've never been a big fan though I did have some great lamb shank at a restaurant in Greektown in downtown Detroit maybe 30 years ago.  They also featured something they called flaming cheese, which they served on a platter doused with vodka or ouzo or something.  Right before the dish arrived at your table, the waiter hit it with a lighter and flames rose three or four feet into the air.  It was spectacular but it seemed a bit dangerous to me as I gazed at the char marks on the ceiling!

It was good though.

I don't think I'll try any flaming cheese at home either.  I've wanted to try to flambe something some time but I've never been able to work up the courage.  The smoke detectors probably wouldn't like it either.

By the way, don't compliment my photography.  I swiped the photos from the Internets.  (Good ol' Google!)

Have a nice week.

Sometimes . . .

 . . . they manage to get along.

That's Jazz (on top of the headboard) and Blackwell (just below) enjoying a bit of cat nappage the other day.  Usually when they're awake they just can not seem to get this close together without problems arising.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Sadly news came from the BRD this morning that she had to take her cat, Sheba, to the vet to be euthanized.  Kidney failure.  Just a few days ago Sheba, the mighty hunter, had caught a bluejay.  It seems to happen fast with cats.

Jet and Lily remain. 

As does Wrigley, the dog.

Armistice Day

Though it has been known as Veterans' Day in the United States since the end of World War Two, the original name for this day of remembrance was Armistice Day.  It commemorates the armistice signed between the Allies and Germany on November 11th, 1918 at 11 o'clock in the morning.  Though the signing ended fighting on the Western Front, war went on in other areas for some time.  Eventually the fighting ended and World War One was over.

While we remember those who died in past wars, we mourn the continued and continual fighting and killing all over the world.