Bad Blood

So,  off I went today to donate blood. I'm O-negative and a fondness for red meat or spinach or whatever gives me iron rich blood.  The only time I was ever turned down for a donation was when I didn't quite tip the scales at 110.  Those day are gone, long gone forever.

I answered all the questions and had good answers I thought, except perhaps for one question:  have you had any needle pricks?  Truth be told I've had a bunch.  Our sweet, fat tortoise cat Thisbe is diabetic and gets insulin twice a day.  Bear in mind this is the same expensive insulin that humans take, except of course, Thisbe gets very small doses.  With small thin sharp needles.

This post is written by a person, me, with poor small muscle coordination.  It's always been that way.  Don't ask.  I don't stuff dates.  I sure as hell don't stuff cherry tomatoes.  Knitting?  Nope.  Crocheting?  Surely you just.  A bit of embroidery was my height of needlework?  No jewelry repair.  I can sew on a button, O.K.?  I am challenged if the fingers need to be agile or dexterous. 

The upshot of this is that I stick myself from time to time with Thisbe's needles.  Usually putting the cap back on to dispose of in the needle jar.  Since I've been skewering myself for as long as I've been skewering the cat, with no ill effects, I thought I would be home free with the blood people.  Not. 

Banned for a year.  Now the chances of my not sticking myself for a whole year are remote.  Banned for life.  All that good rich blood.  Alas, Thisbe. 

Got the Blogging Blahs

Yes, even bloggers get the blahs. When none of your topics seems, well, topical. The photo is a chocolate pecan pie I made yesterday. Started out to make cookies, with the requirement being that all the ingredients needed to be on hand. Somehow I landed on the pie. Even the crust is chocolate. The pie is so rich one only needs a mini-slice. Make that a micro-slice.

We're trying to get ready for a European jaunt and I check off four items from the "to do" list and add six more. The cats are a problem, with Thisbe (the shy one) needing insulin twice a day and Annie needing heart meds twice a day. Color them expensive. And you always have to keep the mental health of your cats foremost in mind.

Cats hate change. They love routine. They hate being boarded. They treasure the comforts of home. We took them BOTH to the vet this week. For once, no great traumas getting them into the carriers. At the vet, Thisbe, who is usually nervous Nellie, was pretty calm, and Annie, who is Miss Congeniality was a spitting, growling she-dragon. Go figure.

Little known fact: even indoor cats need rabies shots, in case rabid bats move into your house. It's the law.

I've been spending too much time on Facebook. Just happened. Dunno why. The isolation of winter, although today looks pretty good, and we have been getting out to shop and exercise and tonight we're trekking to Jordan Hall to hear the Baroque Grand Tour.

In Flight, my novel in process is coming along. Big scene in Miami. All this Florida stuff means I'll have to do a soupcon more research next June, which is the month in which the book takes place. All my books are set in the summer, my favorite season. Interesting, no?

We walked around the Patriot Place shops and restaurants last weekend. Couldn't find the wine bar. The burger restaurant was the busy place, crowded with beef lovers, but the seafood restaurant (Skipjack's) also had a decent crowd. Not meal time but mid-afternoon. Stores were empty. Not a good sign.

With the exception of groceries and household products, it's amazing how long was can actually go without buying stuff. Of course socks and underwear, even pajamas do wear out. I just "saved" $11.00 by washing 2 sweaters instead of dry cleaning them. Even the tailor said her business was slow. Logic would dictate (actually, does logic ever dictate?) that people would pay for alterations instead of new clothes. Maybe not. Or maybe because it was the week AFTER school vacations and nobody brought in clothes the previous week.

I am thinking about writing and money and wondering why I never got an advanced degree when so many friends and classmates did. The other thing I've been pondering about if whether so many years of computer programming changed my brain. Please don't laugh. This is serious stuff.

Back to the omnipresent "to do" list. It's time for that most hated activity, the tax workbook that the accountant sends out. Thank heavens MONEY keeps impeccable records. Actually, I keep the records, money just records everything. And produces nice reports. Once a detail-oriented geek, always a dog. Hmmm good. Detail Oriented Geek. DOG.

I'm wondering if I should write more adventure tales of my robot fish. Or maybe even a screen play.

Always wondering,

Grapeshot

Surviving a Water Landing

A few years ago, researching a short story that I have yet to write, I ran across the following article which is germane to yesterday's crash landing of a passenger plane in the Hudson River. See the link at the end of this blog.

Isn't it just unbelievably great and cool and wonderful to have a bit of really good news? And with the inauguration coming up, life looks good even if the economy is still in the toilet.

A mini-report on the economy as witnessed by me today: Chinese restaurant C.K. Shanghai in Wellesley, good crowd, good food, cheap menu. I went for General Gau's chicken.

At the AAA in Westwood: lots of people. Like us, they must be getting maps and guides to go somewhere. Price of gas is up again.

At Walmart: again, lots of people, many buying groceries. We got cat litter, cat food, cat diabetic supplies and bottled water. I am buying Fancy Feast without gluten for the diabetic cat.

At the tire store: not crowded but phone ringing and some customers. Ye gods, what a new set of tires will set you back. Holy freakin' crap!

People are out and about and buying lunch, planning trips and cruising the Walmart aisles. This is good.

Here is the link to the water landing site:http://www.equipped.org/watertrees.htm

Red Snapper, Pork Roast and Shopping

Holy freakin' crap! I've been cooking up a storm, starting with a 4 lb. red snapper that our house guests brought. Fortunately, this was not a surprise and I had a simple recipe with garlic, lemon and thyme printed out. The fish was huge and we didn't have a platter that big, so we served it in the baking dish. This was Friday, and for lunch today S.O. and I had cold fish with a mustard-mayonnaise sauce with capers. With the fish Friday we had cherry tomatoes provencal, tiny new Yukon gold potatoes and a fancy salad with iceberg lettuce. I made pumpkin tarts for dessert, with wonderful flaky crust and light as a feather filling.

Did I mention that due to the ugly storm we had, the power was off almost all Saturday morning? I had to use a match to get the burners going, and chilled the tarts in a chest with ice. Was dreading beating the egg white by hand when, yowza, the light blinked on again.

Saturday we visited the Wrentham Mall, and I'm happy to report that the parking lot (acres and acres) was full, the stores were full, with lines to checkout, and people had bags and bags of purchases. Now this is a discount mall, but nonethless, there were crowds of shoppers. Good sales, too, and we left Eddie Bauer and Williams Sonoma with big shopping bags. The Lindt Chocolate store had ever-so-yummy offerings.

Came home and made the New York Times old standby pork roast with lemon, garlic, and thyme, carrying on a good weekend tradition of seasonings. More of the same salad, 4 more tarts for desserts, but I made the Thanksgiving hit of a gratin of cauliflower and Brussels sprouts.

Our friend brought a cranberry orange cake that we had for breakfast and in mid-afternoon. Very tasty and seasonal with red berries. We watched an old (1980) Walter Matthau movie called Hop Scotch. He was a spy in from the cold who went back to work and caused grief to his old employers. Much fun and cleverness.

This morning I made oeufs au beurre noir. Again from the New York Times Cookbook, always a trustworthy source.

In the afternoon we read the Sunday papers and are watching the Patriots, who are winning.

I love the weekly NY Times Style section. In spite of former aspirations to style, I have become totally unstylish. This was brought home by a perusal of some 1977 photos of a vacation trip where I wore one cool outfit after another. Can't imagine the size of the suitcase, and this was on a small boat yet, and moi size 4 and legs a mile long. Could this be me? In the Terrific T-shirt. Man, that was some cool shirt. Hard to believe,doing the Hustle with some guy in a bar on Fisher's Island. Ah, the days of our youth. . . .

So. We fed the cows yesterday and Iris's baby has definitely been shipped off to other pastures. Iris is still distraught and bawls and picks fights with the other cows. Baby is probably even more distraught. Poor little thing. Such big trusting eyes.

Thisbe is out from under the bed now the our company has gone. I stuck my finger giving her insulin shot and hope it wasn't me who got the insulin. Nursing is not my strong suit.

Back to the kitchen to heat up many yummy leftovers. The upside of cooking. Yep.

Onward,

Grapeshot

All Is Forgiven

Last night, Thisbe joined us in the living room in front of the fireplace and indicated that "all is forgiven." I went into the kitchen, prepared the syringe, brought it into the living room, swabbed her fur, and gave her the injection, which she appeared not to notice. These are small, fine needles, and that went rather well. She was unfortunately under the bed having "private" time this evening, and I had to wait rather longer than proper timing indicated, but when we got back from my writing group she was waiting for food and I swabbed and jabbed while she was scarfing down moist food.

We're back to moist food, as the web sites dealing with feline diabetes indicate this is the way to go. Far too many carbs in the dry stuff. I'll see. The dry stuff from our vet (available only thru a vet) is for diabetic cats. Right now Thisbe is eating both kinds, and Annie, also porcine, prefers the dry. Annie takes heart medication twice a day. We live in cat sitter hell, that's what.

At the supermarket this morning, the produce truck was LATE. Supposed to be there at 9:00, and not in sight at 11:00. No lemons. No Brussels sprouts. We waited around and waited around and kept accosting the produce people. "They are late because of the holiday."

Grrr. Like the produce people didn't know it was Thanksgiving and might put some extra help on. Finally the truck showed up. I swear to god the Brussels sprouts were unloaded last. We had been hanging out and cooling our heels for a half an hour with entreaties and pleading looks.

Finally, finally the B.S. were brought out and we took four packages, because not only were we doing a side dish for Thanksgiving, but S.O. had it in his head they would be good with the stuffed pork tenderloin tomorrow.

The store didn't charge us for them. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I felt kinda bad, as they were not exactly cheap, and while we seem to be in a financial free fall, we can still buy groceries. They insisted there was no charge. Argued a bit but they were adamant. So thank you for the Brussels Sprouts. We'll enjoy them in good health and and are indeed thankful for your generosity and making us feel the time hanging around and looking at the produce was not time wasted.

Mostly I am thankful that we don't have to eat American Chop Suey one more night. Some wag defined eternity as a ham and two people. I have to say a pound of pasta starts to seem that way by the third night. My oldest kid could, at one time, eat a pound at a sitting. And he stayed skinny. Oh for a metabolism like that in my current years. Yowza! I could eat all the stuff I stay away from. Or try to stay away from.

Yesterday I made oatmeal raisin cookies, a kind of generic cookie from childhood. The recipe made a big batch and there are two bags in the freezer, which is always like manna from heaven. Got the recipe off the Internet. I am getting a good feel for recipes from strange sources. You can look at the seasoning and the fat and get a pretty fair idea if it will be fit to eat.

All recipes calling for margarine are ignored. If all ingredients are "non-fat," that recipe is also disregarded. Low-fat may be all right. We don't object to low, just non. You can always substititute. Healthy salads and veggies are cool. I don't make a lot of desserts, except we like a cookie daily. Seems like one should be able to eat one. Or two. Fresh fruit desserts--yum! Hard to beat fresh fruit. I'm especially fond of Cafloutis.

So I jumped from cat food to people food. Our cats won't eat people food. Won't touch. Won't sniff. It's wonderful. I've had cats that would snake a piece of chicken from a plate with their paws. Cats who ate a half a roast beef. Cats would enjoyed pizza and broccoli and green beans. Cats who want to lick the cereal bowl. Thisbe and Annie are not like those cats.

I am reading a Carl Hiassen book and he showed me how to do a great short flashback. I love his books, which are over the top but in a good, fun way. Great characters, especially the weird bad guys. This book is about bass fishing. I had a bass fishing scene in Promiscuous Mode, but the characters didn't catch any bass. Now I know that bass boats can go fast. You always learn something.

Do you think there are any mysteries where the diabetic cat and the cat with heart trouble solve the crime? I thought not.

Onward,


Grapeshot

Dark Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies

Holy freakin' crap. I made some dynamite cookies today. For the recipe, follow this little old link: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Dark-Chocolate-Oatmeal-Cookies-109497

I think my oven is reluctant to heat, because I had to bake them at least 5 minutes longer than indicated, but they were oh-so-good, and of course we can't leave them alone. They went together really fast. I was in a hurry to bake them and get out of the house, and the mixing and sifting were no big deal.

I also liked that they aren't too sweet. They tasted ultra-sweet when I was scarfing them off the hot cookie sheet, but by this evening they're just right. And were are talking serious chocolatey-ness. And common ingredients. Only 1/4 cup chocolate chips, so this recipe didn't break the bank, either, an important consideration in these times of job loss and the stock market not just in the toilet, but the toilet has flushed and your investments are deep in the sewer. Eeeeww!

I've revised my last scene yet again, in In Flight, my WIP novel, and it's just about there. Even though I have two flashbacks, I've discovered they're best approached with dialog and not straight narrative. And ye gods, I think the main character is going to acquire a cat as she had threatened to in the first scene. The cat just appeared and it looks like the one I saw that needed a good home when I was campaigning for Obama. Crazy, huh? Now if the REAL kitty has found a good home.

Thisbe has been diagnosed with diabetes again. Hopefully this is temporary as it was last time. I discovered the entire unopened box of needles can't be used because the vet changed medicines and these syringes are the "right" size. Ye gods, I'm thinking of going into a bad neighborhood and flogging the needles to well, to someone. I don't think I can advertise them on Craig's list. This is so annoying.

And of course it's no fun for me or the cat to have to go thru these shots once a day. Cat freaks. I freak. Have to calm myself with . . . Dark Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies. Yes. Once a day.

I'm taking a Brussels Sprouts/Cauliflower casserole to our hostess for Thanksgiving and also a pumpkin cheesecake. And wine. Always wine. The problem is, I didn't really read the recipe for the vegetable dish, and it has like pints of heavy cream and a sh__load of cheese, artery clogging and filling, but yowza! I can almost guarantee the guests will digest every milligram of vitamin A. Good calcium, a bit of protein, some beta carotene. Bring it on!

Of course I am breaking the BIG RULE that says you never cook anything for the first time for company, although since I'm TAKING it, they aren't really company. Hoping for leftovers.
We had an omelet tonight, using the last of the grated mixed Italian cheese and the bits of red pepper. It was good. I gathered the last of the parsley from the garden this morning and picked some sage.

Winter is here. It's colder than a well digger's ass.

Onward

Grapeshot