Category: Food & Drink

Groundhog Day all over again

I’ve been dreaming about going back to work. These are real nighttime dreams – not aspirational thinking. In one dream, President Obama asked me to come back to Texas, where I was needed in the defense industry. I said yes, I mean, for America, sure, but when I woke up, I was like, fuck, that was dumb.

In reality, I have no interest in a job. I thought a lot about why I’m having these dreams, and I believe it’s about a search for distraction. We’re living this Groundhog Day existence, and I’ve grown quite sick of the whole thing. Pandemic, fires, air quality, racism, politics – you name it, and I’m sick of it.

Work is the ultimate distraction. For years, a job served me well in my quest for something else to think about besides the crap that infiltrates my brain.

I’m convinced some people don’t want to retire, because then you don’t have that distraction anymore, and you kind of have to figure out who you really are. What’s your core value as a human being, and how are you going to spend your time on the planet?

Heavy stuff. In many ways, work is easier. Wouldn’t you rather be mad at your boss than mad at yourself?

That said, I’m still all about resisting the pressure to conform and perform. I’m post-job, living the Bohemian heiress lifestyle, dabbling in what amuses me, and I’m all the better for it.

Methinks it’s just a touch of cabin fever right now. I do believe we will get through this mess one way or the other, and I look forward to celebrating in grand style. Maybe even get on an airplane and go somewhere.

I know. Crazy talk.

lost in space

We actually have a favorite sausage market in Sacramento, but it closed after a big fire earlier this year. The brats were as good as any I had in Germany. A friend recommended another sausage market in Lockeford, a rural community about an hour from our house. Dale and I decided to take a road trip.

I had my phone, but I wasn’t sure about cellular service, so we packed a real map, and I wrote down the general directions. In the town of Ione, we got to a critical juncture in the journey – left, right or straight ahead – and the phone flipped out. First, it said I lost cellular data. Then it started telling me to make all kinds of crazy turns.

We tried straight ahead, and that didn’t work. We turned around and came back to the juncture, turning right. There was a remarkable absence of highway signs, and we weren’t sure we were on the right road, but to quote Bruce Springsteen, we took a wrong turn, and we just kept going.

The landscape was dry and barren and looked like Mars.

Dale was excited to pass Rancho Seco, a decommissioned nuclear generation plant. Oh, the sights to behold! And we can now say we’ve been to Galt, all 5.9 square miles of it.

In the end, we added about 30 minutes to our trip. We found the sausage market, loaded up and got on the correct road going back. I was curious to see where we’d land when we hit Ione, where we made all the wrong choices.

As we drove into the town, it became clear we should have made a left. Well, now we know.

Dale grilled one of the brats last night, and it was delicious, but I actually prefer the brats from Sac, which were emulsified like a hot dog. The brats from Lockeford were chunky. Still good, but I need to see if the other place is rebuilding. One can only hope.

lime squeezing happiness

To end on a bright note, as proof positive there is still good in the world, I bought a new citrus juicer, and it’s the most amazing kitchen tool I’ve purchased in years.

I highly recommend this little gadget, especially if you have weak wrists and enjoy lime-based cocktails (just an example). It sucks the juice right out and leaves a little more than a hockey puck as residue.

Life among the hermetically sealed

I was preparing for locusts when the fires came. The fires are a good distance from us. We are safe, but the air quality is terrible. We weren’t going anywhere anyway. Now we’re hermetically sealed. I haven’t been outside in days.

Key words: We are safe.

Nothing to complain about. Many indoor amusements.

Art (or something like it)

I’m still having fun with my woodburning art. If nothing else, it’s a wonderful distraction while spending days on end at home. I didn’t want to clutter up the house with my masterpieces, so my completed projects are hanging in the garage until I decide what to do with them.

I asked a friend to look at my online gallery and pick out one for herself. She chose my favorite one so far! I used oil-based pencils for the deep, bold colors and standard colored pencils for areas with subtle shading. I love the range of reds and yellows, which she said will complement her living room furniture.

Pallet scrap burned and embellished with a combination of oil-based pencils and standard colored pencils.

I’m experimenting with a new technique on my current piece. I’ve used an acrylic paint glaze to color the larger areas, and now I’m adding a background design with burned-in dots. The glaze is sort of rustic looking, and I even sanded a little bit over it to roughen it up more. The glazing process is time-consuming, but I seem to have plenty of time on my hands.

Work in progress — the blots are colored with an acrylic glaze, and I’m adding a dotted pattern in the background.

Books & TV

On the entertainment front, I’ve been watching Anne with an E on Netflix. There are only three seasons, and I will be sad when it ends. Total escapism. The series is based on the Anne of Green Gables books, which I never read as a child. Sometimes childhood classics don’t hold up when you read them as an adult, but I still might give the series a try.

I’ve also found some books only seem to be written for children or young adults. I read all the Tarzan books in my 20s and loved them. Just so you know, Jane was badass! Other children’s books I’ve read as an adult include the Harry Potter novels, A Wrinkle in Time and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. I also love the Stuart Little and Paddington Bear movies.

There’s something simple and healing about stories for young audiences. I might just make a regular thing of it. Do you have any favorite children’s books or movies you’ve enjoyed as an adult?

Food

As a foodie, I highly recommend the Food Network series, Amy Schumer Learns to Cook. She and her chef husband are quite the opposites and hilarious together. He likes to cook with fennel, and her reactions are priceless.

We went on another Mexican kick this week. Sometimes we just can’t stop ourselves. Dale made carnitas one night, I made chicken tacos another. Oh, and a dish I jokingly call huevos dineros. It’s my twisted version of huevos rancheros amped up for dinner. A crisp corn tortilla topped with homemade chili sauce, Cheddar cheese and a runny fried egg, accompanied by shredded iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, sliced avocados and a dollop of sour cream.

Today I’m making an overnight no-knead dough that will magically produce baguettes tomorrow. We’ll have those with a ripe Brie, Italian cold cuts and maybe some smoked salmon. Greens on the side. My sister sent us a beautiful assortment of balsamic vinegar, which will certainly have an important role in this meal.

Today’s dinner is unknown at this point, but we swore an oath it will be vegetable-centric to make up for the excesses we enjoyed earlier in the week.

Cognitive tests for dummies

A sampling of our Mexican cookbooks.

Cognitive tests

I’m no fan, but I’d like to thank President Trump for talking about the results of his cognitive test. Now I know you have to count backward from 100 by 7s, and I know I must avoid taking this test or I can say bye-bye car keys. The truth is, I can’t count forward to 100 by 7s.

Let’s call it a learning disability, but I struggle with math. In school, I barely got through algebra, and geometry was next in line to feast on the remains of my carcass. High school geometry was like going to class where everyone was speaking in tongues. I remember sitting there, dizzy with confusion, thinking, “Oh, fuck.”

I got into college anyway. That’s why God invented the journalism major.

Even today, I often use my fingers for simple addition. Dale calls it the digital calculator. As for cognitive tests, he suggested I apply for an accommodation. While other people have service animals, I would ask to bring my service calculator.

Although my earlier idea for a service cat didn’t work out, I’m willing to give the calculator a try. I’m already thinking about a name. A little vest.

COVID update

The COVID-19 numbers in our county are going up. Dale and I huddled this morning to reassess our situation and discuss course corrections. After a robust discussion, we concluded we’re already being quite prudent and are not making any changes at this time. That means we will continue to go to the grocery store as needed, and I will continue to play golf.

In a lot of ways, this is easier for us, because the closest family member is several hundred miles away, and we haven’t made any close friends since we moved here when I retired. This is pretty much how we lived before the pandemic.

We decided to stock up on a few essentials – mostly paper goods – but to otherwise avoid purchasing a lot of extra food. We have two refrigerators and a well-stocked chest freezer, so we feel good about our options. We’re also flexible about what we eat – if they are out of one thing, then we’ll have something else.

Pandemic hobbies for foodies

When I think about food, I am so grateful neither one of us is a picky eater. I can’t imagine how people arrive at conclusions about common foods they will and won’t eat. But then I’m in recovery. I was picky as a child but eventually grew out of it. Although I like some liver, about the only thing I won’t eat are entrails and internal organs. Just because it grosses me out.

We cook a lot of Mexican food, so we stock a hearty supply of dried beans – pinto and black. I recently concluded we are in a rut, relying on the standards we’ve made for years … tacos, burritos, tostadas. In wild pandemic craziness, I reorganized the cookbooks, and for the most part, lumped like-cuisines together. Oversized books have a special shelf and are in no particular order.

I found 14 cookbooks dedicated to Mexican food! I started going through them to learn more about the full scope of the food from Mexico and to see what we might have overlooked the first time around. It’s a fun pandemic hobby … if you’re a foodie. The first book I tackled was “The Cuisines of Mexico” by Diana Kennedy. It was published in 1972.

She writes about certain foods being nearly impossible to find in the U.S. – tomatillos, fresh tortillas. She even said Monterey Jack cheese was hard to find in some parts of the country. I remember buying cilantro for the first time at a Korean market in the early 70s, and it came in a pot. Of course, now it’s everywhere. When we lived in Germany the first time, we bought tortillas in a can. We are so fortunate these days to have such a wide variety of foods readily available.  

There’s a new documentary out about Diana Kennedy, who is 97. I haven’t seen it yet, but in the reviews, some question her legacy – a privileged white woman who became a so-called expert on Mexican cuisine? Others beat her up for being so puritanical about her version of authenticity. Still, she gets grudging respect as someone who did her research and earned her stripes.

I owe her one for teaching me to make tortillas. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

The mojito report

Mojito, a cocktail made with white rum, lime, mint and club soda.
Blind taste testing club soda. See? Cloth face coverings have many uses.

The humorist Russell Baker said June was about making the seasonal switch to gin and tonic. Or as I always say, nothing spoils summer like brown liquor.

While I do enjoy a G&T, I wanted to try something different and decided July was about making the seasonal switch to the mojito. It has been a burden to test this for you, but I believe in giving back. This is my report.

The mojito is a Cuban cocktail with white rum, lime, fresh mint, sugar and club soda served over crushed ice. It’s a perfect summer drink. I experimented a little with ingredients and technique. Again, it’s all about giving back.

Rum

So far, I’ve only used Bacardi Superior, because that’s what we had. It’s smooth and subtle. I like it, although I am eager to try another kind for the purpose of scientific discovery.

Sugar

Some recipes call for sugar and some call for simple syrup. I made a batch of simple syrup and used that. It’s great. To make simple syrup, all you do is heat a cup of sugar and a cup of water and stir until completely dissolved. It keeps in the refrigerator forever.

Mint

Fresh mint is the only option, but there are debates on whether you should muddle the leaves. I tried it both ways, and muddled leaves released more mint flavor. Some say muddling makes the mint turn bitter, but I did not find that to be the case. To muddle, just put the mint in a cocktail shaker or other vessel and poke it a bit with the end of a wooden spoon.

Lime

One whole lime per drink. I don’t like to measure more than I have to, and I found most limes squeeze equally.

Club Soda

For you, dear readers, I did a blind taste test, which by the way, is another great use for your cloth face covering! We had some Canada Dry club soda, and I used that first. Then I bought a bottle of Fever Tree club soda, which is the fancy stuff. I tried that and declared it better, but I was wondering if it was all psychological. Hence the blind taste test.

I poured the water in small glasses and labeled each with painter’s tape. I asked Dale to mix them up while I turned away. I put on my mask, and he led me to the table and helped me put my hands on the glasses. Such a guy.

Honestly, I couldn’t detect a difference. They’re both delicious.

Instructions

Dale’s favorite cocktail is gin-based, so the mojito is just for me. I like that there’s a little labor involved, so I only have one and don’t run back for another. They go down pretty easy.

Put three or four mint leaves in some sort of a vessel. I use a cocktail shaker. Muddle gently with the end of a wooden spoon. Add two ounces of white rum, the juice of one whole lime and two tablespoons of simple syrup. I hate dirtying up measuring spoons, so I actually measured the tablespoons that come with our flatware, and they are, indeed, tablespoons.

I use a margarita glass and fill it about a little more than halfway with crushed ice. I drop one of the squeezed out lime halves into the glass. Pour the cocktail over the ice and then fill it the rest of the way with club soda. You can garnish with more mint for show, but I find it perfect as is.

Respectfully submitted,

Donna Pekar

Stop and smell the goose poop

Ice wine slushie and garden tomatoes.

Today is Wednesday, and normally I would be playing golf in my weekly league. However, last Wednesday, I played so well on the front nine that I felt physically ill trying to live up to my short-lived reputation on the back nine.

The league is not exactly high-stakes competition, but there’s a point system and bragging rights. I got ahead of myself and started feeling over-confident … thinking about the win instead of staying centered and enjoying the game. I decided to take a break. Time to stop and smell the goose poop.

Much to my surprise, I find myself wanting to be more sociable. As an introvert and dedicated homebody, I really thought I could go forever without talking to anyone. I was actually delighted when the clubhouse closed in response to the pandemic.

Now I’m thinking, gee, I don’t know. Life is pretty hard, and who knows how this will all end? What’s wrong with a little party before the lights go out or come on again? Even when reality sucks, can we not find a way to celebrate the moment?

The very idea of being sociable is all speculative at this point, but I can see it happening. Dale is desperate to talk to someone other than me, so I’m pretty sure he’s on board.

Until such time, we continue to party in small ways by cooking and eating well. The chana masala I made was absolutely fantastic, but the naan wasn’t very good. The bread was too cracker-like. I want to try again with a different recipe.

The backyard tomato harvest is on. We had Greek salads – coarsely chopped tomatoes, cucumbers and onions. Garnished with feta cheese and a few Kalamata olives. Dressed with good olive oil and red wine vinegar. A spray of oregano. Dale’s homemade bread for dunking.

We repurposed the bread for BLTs – always delicious with homegrown tomatoes. Then tostadas. A crisply fried corn tortilla topped with mashed black beans, cheddar cheese, lettuce, onions, tomatoes and guacamole.

BTW – I do the NY Times mini crossword puzzle every day. One of the clues this week was an ingredient in guacamole. The answer was onion. I say no! That’s crazy talk. Avocado, lime, salt and a hint of garlic powder.

Onions in guacamole. Yes or no? Your vote matters.

Whenever Dale roasts a whole chicken, we freeze the carcass. I had two carcasses, so I made stock yesterday. I splash some olive oil in a stock pan and add a rough chop of celery, onions and carrots. Sweat those out and add the chicken. Cover with water. Plop in a little cheesecloth sack stuffed with fresh parsley. Simmer for three hours. Strain and freeze.  

I don’t eat on the mornings when I play golf, so we celebrated my day off with one slice of bacon each, toast made from Dale’s homemade bread and eggs scrambled in the bacon fat. I recognize we had bacon earlier in the week, and I apologize for setting a bad example.

We’ve been eating outside. Music, food and drink. That might cure what ails you. I invented a refreshing dessert perfect for al fresco dining. I’m calling it an ice wine slushie. You probably don’t have ice wine sitting around, but somehow, we accumulated several bottles.

Start with 13 ounces of ice wine. Add 3/4 cup of water and six tablespoons of sugar. Simmer for two minutes in a saucepan, cool, and then put it in an ice cream machine. It doesn’t freeze solid, so I put it in a shot glass, and you take a little sip as the sorbet melts.

The flavor is unbelievable, and it’s a thoroughly pleasant way to end a meal. Then when it gets dark, we take a dip in the pool. Swimsuits optional.

Yes, we’re taking time to smell the goose poop, enjoying our simple pleasures and practicing for the parties in our future. How are you celebrating the moment?

Syrup comes from trees

Pure maple syrup.

My seasonal allergies kicked in this week, resulting in post-nasal drip and a little cough, cough, and pretty soon you think, oh shit, this is it. However, I stayed inside for a day, drank a lot of water and my sinuses cleared up. Another bullet dodged.

I haven’t been within six feet of anyone except Dale. I always wear a mask and wash my hands fanatically, but still. This is scary stuff. As a bit of a hypochondriac, I decided to proceed with what I’m calling my early warning system. I ordered one of those pulse oximeters that measures your blood oxygen saturation levels. They say it’s a good way to catch a drop in blood oxygen levels, which can be a dangerous sign of COVID-19. Around $30.

We get a free newspaper we call the Village Idiot. I was reading it during breakfast this morning. They did man-on-the-street interviews, asking people what they were doing for the July 4th holiday. One guy said he was going to the Bay Area. One person said she was going to Utah for a family reunion. I almost choked on my granola. Why not swing by South Dakota and swap a little spit at Mount Rushmore while you’re at it?

Another woman said she was having a barbecue. While Dale insisted it could be just cooking up ribs for her family, having a barbecue sounds like an event not a cooking technique. I just wonder if any of these people are paying attention.

We’re not going anywhere. It’s not exactly traditional fare for America’s Independence Day, but I’m making chana masala, which I would describe as chickpea curry. The base is onion masala. I made the base yesterday, and the fragrance was intoxicating. Onions, spices, garlic, ginger and tomatoes all stewed together in the Instant Pot. I gave Dale a little taste, and he said just give me a spoon and we’ll have that.

BTW … I don’t use canned chickpeas. They’re fine, but I like the taste of beans when they’re cooked from scratch. And they’re so easy! I add dried unsoaked chickpeas to the Instant Pot, add water to cover and cook at high pressure for an hour if I want them on the soft side. For more bite, maybe 45-50 minutes. Then I freeze them in the liquid. Perfect for homemade hummus and other dishes like chana masala.

The big experiment today will be naan, Indian flatbread. I’m excited to try it. We have a small outdoor pizza oven, a Roccbox, and I’m going to cook the bread in that.

Food is starting to seem like the last good thing left of civilization. Dale and I both love to cook, but I’ve definitely gone down the rabbit hole since the pandemic started. We weren’t big into restaurants anyway, but now that’s not even an option for us until maybe next year. Cooking has been my savior throughout all this. And the more I cook, the more I want to cook.

The pasta I made this week came out great. I learned it helps to let the rolled-out sheets of pasta dough dry a little before cutting it into noodles. To reward myself for such genius, I ordered a pasta drying rack. I’m eager to try ravioli, perhaps stuffed with butternut squash and topped with a browned butter sage sauce, but I want to do tubular pasta a few more times to ensure this week’s success wasn’t just a one off.

One downside of all this cooking is the urge to splurge on kitchen stuff. I try not to indulge unless I absolutely positively need it, but I have my eye on several items: a gratin pan, a ravioli mold, a tart pan with a removable bottom and a waffle maker.

The waffle maker is high on my list because when are we going to get those again? Besides, the last ones I had in a restaurant were disappointing. Oh, and when I asked the waiter if they had real maple syrup, the guy looked at me like I was a complete asshole and said, “Well, it didn’t come from a tree.”

Armchair travel and pesto

My Chopped basket. I think I’ll make pesto and homemade pasta!

Today is one of those days where everything feels hard. It seems like everyone out there is mad at everyone else. The news is horrible. I go for a walk, and I have to dodge people left and right to keep six feet away. And, oh, if I want my favorite masks for golf tomorrow, I’d better run another load of wash. I had an appointment to swim laps, but I canceled. Swimming has become such an ordeal.

I decided to stay home. Isn’t that crazy? It seems like most people are itching to go out and do normal things, but sometimes I think we still need a respite from the madness. For me, it means retreating to what’s comfortable. Simple pleasures.

First thing’s first. Lunch. While I eat mostly healthy unprocessed food, I do love me some Cheez Whiz on fresh celery. I’ve been quite the cookie monster lately, so that was my meal, but a tasty one it was. Lunch at home always seems like such an indulgence after years of poking down something at work. It’s actually one of my favorite things about retirement. Well, and breakfast.

Have your lunch habits changed since you retired? I hope you are enjoying something delicious …

Next step was downloading what is turning out to be a pretty good book about hiking the Appalachian Trail. A little armchair travel is good for the soul. I don’t actually want to hike the AT, but I love to walk and am always looking for inspiration. Over the years, I’ve given a lot of thought to doing some sort of long walk, but I have so many caveats I usually give up.

In the Great Big Picture Book of things that scare me about a long walk, here they are in no particular order:

  • Peeing
  • Cliffs and drop-offs
  • Wild animals
  • Pooping
  • Murderers
  • Rapists
  • Bad knees
  • Bad back
  • Weather
  • Sleeping
  • Eating
  • Social distancing

That’s just for starters. For now, I’m gradually increasing my mileage with the idea of doing a long day hike that starts after breakfast and ends before happy hour. That seems doable.

Dinner is always a topic of high interest at our house. Since I decided to avoid the world today, I wanted to cook. I was going to make Chana Masala, but we didn’t have all the ingredients. And it’s not like going to the store is easy.

However, we did have some lovely basil from the garden, so I’m making pesto. I’m also making pasta from scratch. I’ve made pasta before with great success, but I don’t do it enough to feel as though I’ve mastered it. I always make sure we have back-up pasta.

That should get me through the day. And it’s Tuesday! Chopped night on the Food channel. Thank you, universe.

Black Pepper Cookies

For the record, I’m not yet tired of my homemade peanut butter cookies. I’m prepared to go the distance … one cookie per day for the rest of my life. However, Dale had a craving for my black pepper cookies, which are an all-time favorite.

I used to make them for work events, and one of my colleagues asked me to bring her a separate stash so she wouldn’t have to share. Which I did.

BTW, they’re another pandemic-friendly cookie. The pepper won’t fight off the virus, but the recipe calls for just a few ingredients that are probably in your pantry anyway. We like them with lots of pepper, so I use two generous teaspoons of coarsely ground black pepper.

A cool trick from King Arthur is to wander around your kitchen and find unusual tools to press your cookies. They suggest a potato masher, among other things. My favorite is the bottom of the tube from our food processor. I do love circles.

These cookies freeze well and are delicious straight from the freezer, where you should keep them so you don’t eat them all at once.

Black Pepper Cookies

A hot-sweet cookie almost like a spicy peppery shortbread … easy to make with simple pantry ingredients. Originally from Sunset magazine.
Print Recipe

Ingredients
  

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1-2 tsp whole black peppercorns, coarsely ground
  • 1/4 cup butter
  • whole black peppercorns

Instructions
 

  • In a food processor, combine flour, baking powder, 3/4 cup of the sugar and ground peppercorns. Whirl until blended.
  • In a small saucepan, stir butter over medium heat until browned, stirring through the white foam to check. Add to the flour mixture and whirl until the dough forms a ball. If after a minute or so, it's still not in a ball, just put it in plastic wrap and squeeze together until it forms a ball.
  • Pinch off 1-inch pieces of dough and roll into a ball. Arrange balls, slightly apart, on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Dip the bottom of a small glass in the remaining sugar and press each ball gently to about 1/2 inch thickness. Press a peppercorn into the center of each cookie. Sprinkle with additional sugar, if desired.
  • Bake on the lowest rack of a 300 degree oven until browned on the bottom, about 20-25 minutes. Transfer the cookies to a rack and let cool completely. Store at room temperature or freeze. They're delicious right out of the freezer!

Our spirit animal

Our coyote friend came back to take another snooze by the pool. He appears to be a juvenile. Well-fed and healthy. I was out of the house early to play golf, so I don’t know what time the coyote bolted. Dale said he looked out mid-morning, and the coyote was gone.

I think he’s our spirit animal – sent to share a message. Reminding us to not take things too seriously and to seek balance between wisdom and playfulness. As I researched this further, I learned coyote symbolism warns us to beware of the dark side of things and reveals the answers to your problems often come in ways and forms you least expect.

Since the coyote first showed up, we’ve done quite well backing away from COVID arguments, which are principally focused on surviving shopping expeditions and managing territorial issues in the kitchen.

While it’s easy to assume these issues arose from being crushed together during pandemic sheltering, it might also result from being crushed together during my retirement, whereupon I discovered that I liked staying home … which is where Dale likes to hang out, too.

We’ve learned that both of us staying home fighting for space while the world is on fire is a dark place to start when you’re just trying to make dinner.

The thing is, we both like to cook. And with cooking comes control. When I was working, Dale basically had squatters rights in the kitchen, but now he has to share his toys. But it’s not just space or equipment. It’s about choices. What are we going to eat? How are we going to get it? Are you going to use that fresh spinach before it goes bad? Mexican … again?

We had a close call earlier this week, but I managed to defuse the fire with quick action … a skill I’ve been perfecting of late, perhaps with the help of our spirit animal. It involves pressing my lips together and keeping my mouth shut.

The situation was chicken breasts. As you may recall, I defrosted and re-organized the chest freezer. At the time, we only had one chicken breast left, so I put it in a Ziploc with thighs and labeled it, “Chicken Breasts and Thighs.” Makes sense to me.

Normally, Dale likes to buy the frozen chicken breasts individually sealed and you can just cut one off as needed. But when the stay-at-home mandate first started, those were hard to find.

When individually sealed breasts showed up again, Dale purchased a package and put them in the freezer. No, he probably turned backward and tossed them over his shoulder like salt or maybe did a little dance in silent protest of the new order.

And so it came to pass that it was time for Mexican-style baked chicken breasts. A yummy thing. You mix some salsa in with beaten eggs, dip the breast and then roll it in bread crumbs seasoned with cumin and whatever other spices sound good. Throw some butter in a glass casserole, bake at 375 degrees about 30 minutes or until done. Serve with shredded iceberg lettuce, a dollop of sour cream, sliced avocado and a wedge of lime.

I said innocently enough, “When you get the chicken breasts out to thaw, the oldest one is in a labeled Ziploc. Use that one and then cut off one of the new ones.” He did not respond.

Later, as Dale was preparing his kitchen hut for the sacred cooking ritual, I was convinced I personally witnessed him cutting off two portions from the new package of individually sealed breasts.

I wanted to say, “What is so effing hard about using the oldest one first?” But then I thought, oh, the chicken will get eaten one way or the other. Who cares? I did not say a word, and I’ve been quite proud of my restraint. I thought about all the ways to do things and how we almost always go in opposite directions. It’s actually quite funny.

So, I laughed. I thought it would make a funny post and sat down to write. Then I went to the freezer to take some sort of picture to go with. While I was there, I decided to look in the Ziploc. The chicken breast was gone. Only one missing from the other package.

That coyote. He’s a trickster.

The Last Argument

A coyote snoozing by the backyard spa.
Our coyote friend on the move after he heard me open the door.

Suburban coyote

As I was cleaning up cat barf this morning, I happened to look out the back window, only to see a coyote snoozing by the spa. I can’t believe my furry little puker missed that one, as he sat staring out the front window, desperately seeking squirrel activity.

I took a picture through the window and watched him awhile. I figured he would just move along at some point, but Dale said sometimes they can’t get out. I gingerly propped the gate open and came back in the house.

Then the coyote moved to a shady spot by the pool. I opened the sliding glass door and snapped a shot of him trotting away. He jumped to the top of the fence and looked like he decided next door was a better option. I was like, dude, they don’t cook … the food is better over here, but he wasn’t buying it. I put on a mask and went over to alert our neighbors, because they have a dog and a cat that both go outside.

Coyotes do live around here. You can hear them at night. Still, I hope he’s OK. He might have heard the pool is open for the season – registering yesterday at 81 degrees! Of course, I’m being sexist here. It could be a she, but I’m thinking it’s a boy coyote that would run away from home and camp out in someone’s yard.  

Swimming

I’ve started swimming in our backyard pool. It’s not a huge pool, so swimming laps is not ideal, lots of head-bashing, but it’s the only option I have right now, coyotes and all. I need to decide if I’m going to keep my membership in the health club. I would definitely not use the weights or the locker room. I’ve been doing free weights at home.

I would like to use the pool at the health club and have a plan for how to do it safely if or when it reopens, but if I swim twice a week, that’s about $10 a swim. Not sure it’s worth it. Although, my back did feel better after just one swim. Decisions!

Cookie Madness

I’ve decided to allow myself one peanut butter cookie a day until I no longer want one … which might never happen, so perhaps I will be eating one every single day for the rest of my life. I can’t believe one cookie could be all that bad for me. And they are so easy to make.

The recipe yields about a dozen and a half – depending on what size scoop you use, and the only ingredients are peanut butter, brown sugar and an egg. A smattering of sea salt. I prefer them without chocolate chips. What can I say? They bring me joy.

Books & TV

Today is a library curbside pick-up for Dead Land, the new Sara Paretsky novel featuring V.I. Warshawski. This is book 20. I think I’ve read them all.

I’m done with the current season of Bosch, and I finished the Longmire series. Both were excellent, although I did not like how Longmire wrapped up. I won’t spoil it for you, but it just didn’t feel right to me. I do think he’s a cutie and hope to see him in something else soon.

While I’ve yet to pick a new crime series, I have a long list of options. None are calling to me. I’m currently watching Vida on STARZ. It’s about two Mexican sisters who return home to Los Angeles after their mother passes away.

The mother ran a bar, and it turns out she was a closet lesbian – at least closeted to her daughters. The daughters start to run the bar and become immersed in the local scene. Warning – strong sexual content and not necessarily your routine stuff.

The last argument

Although we are still being cautious, we went to Home Depot for two things needed for a small improvement project. While it was not a good experience for us, it did result it what we are calling, “The Last Argument.” I wanted to order online and have it delivered to the car. Dale wanted to go in and buy weed killer. I conceded.

We put on our masks. There was a line, and they were counting people as they entered. Still, there were a lot of people entering, and most of them were not wearing masks. Dale got annoyed and didn’t want to buy weed killer after all. We got the two things we went for and got out of there as fast as we could.

Later, Dale said he was angry that I insisted we go to Home Depot to buy things for an optional improvement project. I said, if you will recall, I wanted to have it delivered to the car. The only reason we went inside is because you wanted to.

He was like, oops, I forgot. Sigh. We’re just humans doing the best we can. Kiss and make up. We agreed – talk everything through in advance, make sure we understand each other’s expectations and don’t fight about anything ever. It sucks.

Stress behavior

People are stressed, and stress behavior can be ugly. I played golf, and one of the women in my group was a complete bitch. She didn’t mess with me, but she was so rude to one of the other players. I don’t know where that came from, other than she’s just pissed about life in general.

I almost didn’t play but had a golf dream telling me to relax and let my swing flow smoothly. I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard something about a smooth swing, but I finally figured out why it doesn’t stick.

Sometimes you do herky-jerky things, and you get away with it. Smash a drive or whatever. You begin to think that’s the secret, so you start trying it on purpose. Nothing good comes of this. Smooth is always the answer. I said to myself, just go, be at peace with the universe, stay calm and be smooth. Do not introduce extra movements to the momentum of the swing.

It worked! I played well … much better than I’ve been playing, even with my exposure to the bitter bitch. I hope she chills out. I feel stress and constantly have to work at managing these challenges in a positive way, but I’m mostly successful and certainly happier.

It’s hot, and if there are no coyotes in backyard, I will be taking a dip today.

Stay chilled.