Category: Current Events

Chocolate and caviar

While I am doing reasonably well with my strategy to disengage from the news, some things can’t be overlooked. For example, when the president of the United States calls for annihilating a civilization, it’s time for even drive-by citizens to speak up.

I’m calling my three legislators every day or at least until I poop out telling them Trump must be removed from office one way or the other. He is stark-raving mad.

But we all have ways of coping. Chocolate and caviar. But not together.

Dale and I had one tiny tin of really good caviar left over from New Year’s, which we didn’t celebrate due to our unfortunate turn of events. The tin was tightly sealed, but I said, you know now, it’s not getting any younger.

It was last night on the eve of destruction that I dragged it out and suggested we have one last pleasure before it all went up in smoke. Dale agreed, but then my sister called to tell me there was a two-week cease fire. So, we ate it anyway to celebrate the possibility of better times ahead.

For the record, we no longer make a pretense of eating caviar with accompaniments. We each have a mother-of-pearl spoon (nonreactive). I open the tin and we pass it back and forth until gone. Don’t worry. It’s over quick.

I have found that trying to restrict what I write about doesn’t do me any good. I think it’s better to write a little more frequently and let it roll. Hopefully, I will keep trying and find the right balance.

We are both doing well recovering from our injuries. Dale is amazing. I don’t think they thought a 76-year-old man would bounce back like he has from a fractured pelvis, but there you have it. I’m closing in on week 11 since I fell and broke my proximal humerus.

I’ve been referring to it as a broken arm, and I was surprised to find the whole thing so painful. But then I read this particular fracture is sometimes referred to as a broken shoulder, and for some reason, the pain level made more sense to me. It’s all in the branding.

The physical therapy hurts, but I am improving significantly, especially my range of motion. I have started to sleep better. Still not quite what I need for a happy snooze, but I do think it’s within sight.

For awhile there, I couldn’t keep weight on. It was scary, but I ate more, and now I have to pay attention to what I eat or the pounds creep back on. I sort of miss all that extra eating. It was fun while it lasted. But now, even being careful, I refuse to give up my evening cookie. I won’t say we eat one every single night, but most nights, yes.

I keep a stash of homemade cookies in the freezer. Two kinds of chocolate and an oatmeal. It’s the perfect treat – high in taste but not ultra-processed and built-in portion control. There’s a coconut sheet cake featured in a recent King Arthur email that looks absolutely enticing, but I feel like that’s a slippery slope. 

I’ve been using really good quality chocolate baking chips. They are expensive but worth it, in our opinion. They also make delicious fudgsicles. And as our weather warms up again, I can see putting them back on the menu. It’s fun to eat one outside after dinner. I don’t know why it feels special, but it’s a simple pleasure we both enjoy enormously.

If you’re into making popsicles or fudgsicles, I recommend hard plastic molds like these. I tried the silicone, and they were worthless. My baking chocolate is from Dick Taylor.  It’s a great place up in Eureka, where my sister lives. We toured the factory one time when I was up there for a visit. Very fun! This is their recipe for fudgsicles:

I haven’t done any of my art because I didn’t think I could sand the board. But I’m feeling pretty frisky and might try it today. My entire recovery strategy is to push hard enough to get things done and improve but not so hard as to interfere with my sleep. You might be surprised to learn that is a fine line. For me, at least, the pain always comes later.

As soon as I can predictably sleep through the night without a mountain of pillows, we are going to take some sort of a little road trip. We like Morro Bay. It’s a longish drive, so we might need a little more time before embarking on that particular journey. But we are ready to get back into life.

Baking saves lives

Manchego cheese muffins with Spanish chorizo and roasted red peppers. Oh, and sour cream.

For most of my life, I played by the rules. I served my country in uniform. I stayed informed, I worried about all things big and small and checked the boxes of what a “good citizen” is supposed to do.

I’m not saying a broken arm is a good thing, but since I fell down and went boom, I’ve had plenty of time to read a lot of wretched news and rethink pretty much everything. Whatever I thought I knew doesn’t seem to be true anymore.

This I do know — whatever it is going on out there leaves many of us feeling anxious, divided and powerless. We didn’t choose it, and we can’t control it.

While I’ve tried hard to disengage from all this noise in the past, I always felt guilty for not paying attention. It’s my duty! But it has occurred to me we can redefine what it means to be a good citizen. It does not mean we have to save the world one doomscroll at a time.

For me, it means being peaceful and kind. Mastering the art of the micro-joy. Helping my neighbors. Supporting my community. I think that does more for the world than being angry and miserable.

I mean, hell, yeah, I’m still going to vote, do what’s right, speak up, pay my bills and follow the law, but at age 70, I want to focus day-to-day on my happy retired life – the one filled with art, cooking, walking, chocolate and other simple pleasures … the life I started to write about eight years ago but got sidetracked by political drama.

This is my way of saying I’m returning to my roots. You will read less about politics and more about the experiences of a retired person observing life and just trying to be happy. The biggest news will come from my kitchen. Or maybe from my workshop in the garage.

It does feel as though the world is spinning out of control until you realize you aren’t in control anyway. I do not believe it’s a cop-out to disengage a bit. I do not believe it makes us bad citizens. Quite the opposite.

Those of us who choose happiness over hysteria are not part of the problem. Call me crazy, but I like to think we are actually part of the solution. Perhaps living simply and living well is resistance in its finest form. Proof good people can flourish, and peace is still possible.

As for the picture, I was baking yesterday. Baking saves lives. And yes, I think I’m getting my mojo back.

Rebound

I visited the ortho yesterday for follow-up x-rays and a progress report. The bones are healing properly, and I don’t need surgery. He said to ditch the sling permanently and use my arm gently as much as possible but no lifting over five pounds. I start PT next week.

So, yay. What a relief. He even said I could putt and chip a little, but no more than that until I see him again in two months. I believe whisking, chopping, stirring, frying and sautéing count as gentle exercise! Sadly, so does cleaning the house, but I’m actually eager to take it on as I am able. Slow and gentle. I am not going to do anything stupid.

Although I am sickened by all things political, I feel optimistic here on the homefront. Next on the agenda – get back to writing about something other than broken bones. Walk more. Get back to reading, which I haven’t really done since this whole shitshow started. I’m referring to our personal shitshow not the national example of shitshows gone wild.

I’m thinking about food and what I can make. I was going through old cooking magazines looking for a specific pasta recipe we seem to have lost and stumbled onto a recipe for coconut cream pie. I definitely see that in my future.

Dale took out the last hunk of his homemade corned beef and is making corned beef hash tonight. We always top it with a fried egg. He made white bean and sausage soup the other day. I always love that with toasted French bread brushed with garlic-infused olive oil. Two batches of that went straight to the freezer.

Our freezer food is the best. It has been mostly depleted since the fiesta began with Dale’s accident in December, but we’re back on the job. We still have the whole breast from our Thanksgiving turkey, and it will probably end up as enchiladas. It’s always nice to have enchiladas in the queue.

I’ve got my starter, Gollum, cranking up for sourdough. Dale has been asking for my little homemade baguettes, so they need to go in the rotation. Yeast is so easy compared to sourdough. We make a charcuterie board with Italian cold cuts, some kind of runny cheese, nice, bitter arugula and some cornichons and just have that for dinner with the bread.

With regard to politics, I do call my senators and congressman, but both my senators are Democrats and so far don’t need prompting to do the right thing. The Republican is another story. Maybe he was dropped on his head when he was a baby.

It’s hard to find anything to say to him that might resonate, but I do call every couple of days to remind him I am opposed to him rubber stamping everything Trump says and does, and I want him to join with other members of congress to provide independent oversight.

That is, after all, what these yahoos were elected to do.

News from the mediverse

I actually predicted Trump would do something horrible in Venezuela on Christmas Day, because that’s how he rolls, but I guess he couldn’t get it done on time. What a despicable act by our country, but hey, we’re not thinking about the Epstein files anymore.

Except we are. Because we are not stupid, and we are not looking away from any of these crimes. I called my Republican congressman this morning and left a message. Not that he has a spine, but you never know.

Let’s see. News from the mediverse. Dale is doing much better. I don’t think they ever succeeded in getting ahead of his pain, but the pain finally subsided enough for the meds to work effectively. Ha – caught you, you sneaky bastards.

One evening Dale texted me that the meds didn’t put a dent in the pain. I was ready to go to bed, but I flew down to the facility (on my broom) and explained the situation to the charge nurse. We went together to his room, where he was resting comfortably. She asked him where his pain was on the scale, and he said a 2.

The look on her face. The look on my face. I wish I had that moment captured on film. I’m like, you dragged my ass down here for a 2? I’m sure she was thinking the same thing. Anyway, by the next day, the pain mitigation was working well. We shall pretend the other thing didn’t happen.

He has lost close to 10 pounds. While he welcomes the weight loss, this particular diet sucks.

Dale moves about quite nicely with the help of the walker and the physical therapist. He can get in and our of bed with minimal assistance. Sitting still hurts quite a bit, but even that might be improving. Dale is not exactly Communicator of the Year. I had to have a little talk with him about being his own advocate. I’m still there for him, of course, but he has to speak up if he’s in pain or needs something.

The plan is to bring him home Thursday. Lots of moving parts, but I’m confident this whole thing will work. His sister is coming from Maine to help. We like each other a lot, but you know. Family can be hard. We talked about it, and we’re just going to get over it for now. Too many other things to worry about.

I’m really glad she’s coming. She and Dale have a strong bond, and she’s a retired nurse. I will need reinforcements, and she’s exactly the right person to help.

Medicare covers some of the home health assistance, and I am planning to supplement that with private help, at least for a couple of weeks. The risk of fall is still pretty high, and we want to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Since he fell off an extension ladder and is flat on his back in a nursing facility, watching the clock to see when the next pain pill arrives, hoping the meds don’t cause a complete bowel obstruction, listening to his roommate cry and peeing into a bedside urinal, I suggested we get rid of the ladder.

He said, oh, no, that’s a good ladder. I know what I did wrong.

Dude, are you smoking crack? I said you would actually get on that thing again??????? He said yes, of course. So, I asked my buddy at ChatGPT what to do. The bot said to respect his autonomy but find another place for the ladder until he’s capable of making a rational decision. I was going to ask a neighbor to store it in his garage, but everybody around here maximizes their garage space.

Instead, I found a hidey hole in our garage. Mostly out of sight. You hardly know it’s there. May it rest in peace.

What I’m watching

I’ve been watching The Diplomat on Netflix, but I’m not sure I’ll continue. We worked in an embassy in Cairo, so the diplomatic setting is nostalgic, and of course, I love all the relationship stuff, but the politics is kind of exhausting and maybe a little too relevant right now? Still, I do think the British foreign secretary is hot. Seems to me the ambassador agrees, and I’d like to be there when that happens.

Last night I switched to BritBox and saw there’s a new season of Shetland, so I watched that. I like Vera, but she sort of wears on me at times.

What I’m reading

I had a nice stack of books from the library and returned them all. I just can’t concentrate right now.

What I’m eating

Not much, I will tell you that. I left the facility a little early yesterday and had time to cook something other than a quesadilla or burrito. I was planning to stop at the grocery store, but it was pouring rain, and I wasn’t up for it. It was like an episode of Chopped. I found enough stuff to make my favorite Indian comfort food, Keema. It’s basically a spicy ground meat and spinach stew in coconut milk.

I found bison in the freezer. I ran out of spinach the night before, but I had a tub of the spinach-arugula mix. I didn’t have fresh tomatoes, but I had a can of fire-roasted tomatoes. I had all the spices and one can of coconut milk. I was missing fresh jalapenos but went out in the rain to Dale’s dying jalapeño plant and found a couple in good shape. I even had homemade naan in the freezer.

That’s the best meal I’ve had since this whole thing went down. Drank a beer with that, sucked down a bunch of water, popped a half of a sleep gummy and was asleep by 7:30.

Never surrender

It seems I’ve been in a bit of a funk. Aside from watching all that is good and decent in America being crushed by soulless rat bastards, my traitorous left shoulder joined the party, and all things combined, it just seemed like there was no way up.

Not that I always need to be right, but I “suggested” to medical professionals back in March that I might have frozen shoulder. Don’t ask me to explain what it is. It’s a thing. They also call it adhesive capsulitis. I had it in my right shoulder shortly after my mastectomy in 2015, so I am somewhat familiar with the symptoms.

They all agreed I did not have frozen shoulder. I asked about getting a cortisone shot, and they said no, it most likely wouldn’t help whatever might be wrong with me, if only they knew, but since it’s not frozen shoulder, I should stick with physical therapy.

I did as I was told for close to six months, although I didn’t see much improvement. The PT said it would take a year of hard work. I’m like, fine, bring it on. I couldn’t get back in to see the sports medicine doctor until late January, but I could ride it out until then. I could still play golf, so it wasn’t the end of the world.

Then I couldn’t play golf. I no longer had a swing and couldn’t strike the ball properly. It’s like my shoulder was, oh, I don’t know … frozen?

I brought it up at my annual physical, and the doctor said we probably ought to get an MRI. That’s done, and the results are in. You might be surprised to learn I have frozen shoulder. She referred me back to the sports doctor, who still couldn’t see me until late January, but they got me an appointment with one of his colleagues.

He said, oh! Frozen shoulder! You need a cortisone shot! You could have gotten this earlier, you know.

I got the shot last week, and it really is a pre-Christmas miracle. I can play golf. I can sleep on that side. It still hurts a little, but it’s mostly gone. One shot fixed me last time, and I’m hopeful that will be the case this time around. Now that I’ve had it in both shoulders, I’d like to think I’m done.

Which brings me back to watching democracy rot from within. I don’t know what to do. Part of me just wants to pretend it isn’t happening, but the other part of me says bad things happen when good people stay quiet. I know a lot of good people read this blog, so I suspect you ruminate on this as well.

I quit writing for a few weeks because I just sort of felt like, what’s the point? But I think the point for me personally and for all of us struggling with the political landscape is to never surrender. Do what you can, but don’t torment yourself. Focus on simple pleasures.

I’m no pundit, but I think it’s important that everyday people say what needs to be said. That means I will continue to stand up for liberal values and share my thoughts on what it’s like to be an American right now, because I’m a writer at heart, and that’s what writers do. They write about what torments them.

But I am also hoping to find my sense of humor again – I think it took a sabbatical shortly after the last presidential election. In the meantime, I hope a little commentary along with food and books and movies is somehow entertaining or comforting. We’re all here trying to live our lives as best we can, and maybe it helps to know you are not alone in your anger, sadness or confusion. 

That’s why God made cookies, and that’s what I am making today. I’m gonna turn on some music and maybe even dance in the kitchen.

A shout-out to the food banks

As I re-read my last post, I felt a little bad because it’s obvious I have a privileged life, what with time to browse BritBox and shop for fennel pollen. Yes, it is a rather pleasant retirement, but I’m fully aware there are people out there working their asses off and trying to feed their families before the money runs out.

I mostly write about leisure and upscale home cooking, so let’s assume hard-working people struggling to put food on the table are not my target audience. But it seems to me those of you who do come here also care deeply about others, so I wanted to give a shout-out to the food banks that are saving lives, especially now with government food assistance on hold.

How can anyone think it’s OK to stop giving people money for food? You probably already give, but if you’ve got a little extra, I urge you to give more. Even a little bit goes a long way. My local food bank says $1 provides food for six meals. I’ve also learned $100 can feed a family of four for a month.

If you can’t help financially, you can still share your opinions with friends, family and elected officials. It is not OK to starve people.

Somewhat related to this topic is the Epstein files. I was playing golf with a couple of guys yesterday, when one of them brought up the government shutdown. I said I truly believe it’s all about suppressing the Epstein files. One guy said, “Oh, who cares about the Epstein files?”

A couple of weeks ago, I might have said, yeah, I understand. But that time is gone. I said, “I care about the Epstein files. Crimes were committed against young girls, and the people who did it must be held accountable.”

He stopped stammering about who cares and said yes, of course they do. Well, good, now we agree. It’s something, right? I’m done giving people a pass to ignore this stuff. These aren’t made up crimes.

What to do if you’re not destroying public property

I guess Trump could bulldoze the East Wing because there’s no HOA at the White House. If I even look at my driveway sideways, somebody will poke my eye out. Seems like Congress is the equivalent of an HOA. I can’t imagine why they didn’t intervene.

Oh, that’s right. They are spineless. And they’re “working from home.” Where are return-to-office mandates when you need them?

Here’s my desperate hope. You may call it a conspiracy theory or even a wild-ass guess. Maybe Trump knows his days are numbered, and he’s like a cat, peeing all over the place to mark things up with his scent before he is escorted out of the building upright or otherwise.

Fortunately, there are lots of things to do if you’re not busy destroying public property. People like us, we have the time to eat good food, read great books and even watch a few shows on TV.

What I’m eating

No kings at our house, but food continues to rule. People are often surprised I’m so into food yet I’m slender. But I wasn’t always. Somewhere along the line my body just changed, and this is how I ended up. Lots of things in life have gone the other way, so you know what they say. If someone gives you a putt, take it.

I’m living up to my name, Pekar, which means baker in several languages. My bread is getting better all the time. It’s fun to work hard at something and actually improve. Unlike golf. Not that I’m bitter.

We got our first cold snap a couple of weeks ago, and I made stuffed cabbage. I use bison instead of beef. Years ago, we started eating venison and bison and never went back to ground beef. Bison is more expensive, but Costco has it for a good price.

I made rye bread to go with, and it was fantastic. We save all the juice from dill pickles and use it instead of water in the bread. Maybe two-thirds pickle juice and one-third water.

Dale made pork curry, and I made raita and naan to go with. We have a small outdoor pizza oven we hardly ever use for pizza, but it’s great for naan.

Then we had a little rain, so I wanted something soupy. I made shrimp and corn chowder with my sourdough on the side. The chowder was delish. The bread was amazing. For awhile there, I was struggling with my starter. It was thin and weak, so the bread didn’t rise like it’s supposed to.

Part of the problem is that I was retaining too much of it. For one loaf a week, I only need to keep about 50 grams. I also learned to give it more flour. I was using equal parts water and flour to feed it, but for some reason, mine needs to be on the thick side.

I also made rigatoni with sausage and fennel pollen. We love fennel, and it comes through loud and clear in this dish. But I think a teaspoon or two of the pollen would improve just about any pasta sauce.

Fennel pollen can be hard to find. Of course, Amazon has it. I got mine at the Oxbow Public Market in Napa. That sounds so snotty. But here’s the truth. Even though I’m originally from California, I left shortly after high school to join the Army and earn a living. Twenty-three moves later, I never counted on returning, and it’s still kind of shocking we pulled it off.

What I’m reading

I just finished the new Thursday Murder Club book, “The Impossible Fortune.” I absolutely loved it! Reading the latest installment after seeing the movie made me feel a little kinder toward the casting. I could see them all as I read, and it was fun.

If you’ve read the series, you’ll be familiar with the drug lord Connie Johnson. Her character is becoming more interesting with each book. Now I’m starting to think about who would play her in the movie. That could be a great role for someone. But who?

I just received a notice from the library that my new Walter Mosley is ready! “Gray Dawn” is the latest in the Easy Rawlins series. Easy is a black PI in Los Angeles. The series started just after World War II and has progressed to the 70s. I feel like I’m in another world when I read these novels, and that is a welcome feeling these days.

The jury is out on whether I will purchase the new Lincoln Lawyer book or wait for it at the library. That would be “The Proving Ground” by Michael Connelly.  

What I’m Watching

I’m still hooked on “Shetland” on BritBox. I’m close to running out of episodes, so I will switch to one of the excellent recommendations ya’ll shared with me earlier. I’m also ready to try “The Diplomat” on Netflix.

In what might be a pre-Christmas miracle, it’s possible I’ve found a streaming option for “Young Frankenstein.” I’ve been looking for ages … to no avail. I downloaded the Retro Movie and TV app through the Roku Channel, and it looks like I’ve hit pay dirt.

I’ve come to loathe Halloween. We close the blinds and eat Dale’s homemade pizza. “Young Frankenstein” will be on the docket if it’s actually available. I anticipate getting some sort of error – it was too easy.

No kings, no fear

We went to a No Kings rally today. The crowd was enormous – much bigger than last time. I might be wrong, but it also seemed like there were a lot more young people, and that’s gratifying. It will take all of us to successfully defend our Democratic principles.

I was afraid to go. While I try to stay chill about all this, the republican rhetoric about the rallies has been particularly despicable. To suggest peaceful protesters hate America is an outrage. They know that’s not true, yet they say it and look at themselves in the mirror. What happened to these people?

Not only that, but I believe it’s an incitement to violence, to demonize us and get the other side fired up, and that’s why I didn’t want to attend. They almost scared me into not going, but it didn’t work.

While there were lots of options, we went to the mall, where the parking is easy. Plenty of escape routes in the event of a violent encounter or a zombie apocalypse. I wore shoes I can run in, I’ll tell you that.

We used our sign from last time – No Cons, No Clowns, No Kings. On the opposite side, I wrote, “Two veterans who LOVE America.” I just wanted to say it loud and clear in the face of these politicians because their words infuriated me.  

Not that there’s a shortage of loathsome misguided republican operatives, but I’m looking at you Mike Johnson. His remarks about the rallies was deeply offensive to me and millions of other honorable citizens exercising their constitutional rights. No one paid us to have a backbone, buddy.

Additionally, his refusal to swear in Rep.-elect Adelita Grijalva is beyond troubling. She’s the last vote they need to release files from the Justice Department’s investigation into convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein.

Who knows what that might mean for boatloads of people of all political persuasions. When you die, maybe you finally get to know what’s up with the Epstein files, but I will say this. Whatever it is, it’s big, and they are afraid.

But not me, not anymore. Mike and his pals can shake in their boots, but we are strong. Stronger than we thought. Stronger than they thought.

Now I know why they’re scared.

Maybe we’re not so divided after all

Here I am with not much to say but plenty of words in the hopper nonetheless. It feels like I’m just going through the motions, writing about this or that while democracy burns. Then I think, some people aren’t bothered by any of it, and they go about their merry lives. I would like to be one of them, but I am not.  

So, I come bearing a small gift. As I’ve described in previous posts, I limit my exposure to Substack and avoid shining examples of misinformation, but I continue to read a few quality newsletters on that platform. One such newsletter is “Need to Know” by David Rothkopf.

He recently wrote that a vast majority of Americans agree on a wide array of issues, but political leaders largely don’t address those issues and political analysts would rather talk about how divided we are.

Rothkopf sees it differently. Most of us want the same things, and what we want is not radical.

“The majority cares about being able to make a living, being able to afford the basics of life, being able to send their kids to a good, safe school, having access to clean water, clean air, healthy food, medicines, being able to see a good doctor when they need it, being able to afford care when they are sick, having a dignified retirement, knowing that their communities are safe, knowing that law breakers will be punished, living in a society in which they and those they know have the opportunity to get ahead, not having the government interfere in their lives in ways that limit their freedoms, living in a democratic country they are proud of.”

You can read his piece here. I felt a little better after reading it. Maybe you will, too. If Trump doesn’t rig the next election, and enough people come to their senses, we might have a chance.

What I’m Watching

I finally subscribed to BritBox, and I am on a “Shetland” binge. I’m on season four, and there are nine total!

The series is based on the novels by Ann Cleeves, who also wrote the books the show “Vera” is based on. “Shetland” features detective Jimmy Perez, who investigates crime in the close-knit Scottish island community of Shetland.

I’ve been so wrapped up in “Shetland” that I haven’t even looked around to see what else I might like. Any other BritBox suggestions?

What I’m Eating

If you’ve heard of the singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt, you might be familiar with what might be the saddest song in history – “Marie.” It’s about a homeless guy and his partner, Marie. I know, I know, what does this have to do with food?

Well, part of the song goes:

Summer wasn’t bad below the bridge

A little short on food, that’s all

Now I gotta get Marie some kind of coat

We’re headed down into fall

Yes, we are headed down into fall! Dale and I always quote that song, in honor of Townes. I’ve made a monster list of all the things we want to make, and we are starting to put a dent in it.

Dale made navy bean and sausage soup. I think turnips are the key to this soup – they cook in the stock with the rest of the aromatics and add a big punch of flavor. He toasts slices of French bread under the broiler and brushes them with garlic-infused olive oil. The magic happens when you dunk the bread into your soup.

I made pumpkin seed dip, one of our old favorites from a Diana Kennedy cookbook. Our version is off-the-charts hot. You will probably not make it, but I will describe it for those who like to live vicariously. We’ve made this dip for parties, and some people can’t touch it. Others can be found in the corner, licking the bowl after everyone else has left.

You start with a cup or so raw shelled pumpkin seeds, and toast them on the cooktop in a dry cast iron pan. Once they’re browned, let them cool. Then you buzz those up in a spice grinder with salt to make a fine powder. Now you need a couple of good tomatoes, two or three fresh habanero peppers and a couple of jalapeños, and you put them on a broiler pan with a rack.

Those go into the broiler to blacken. You kind of have to keep your eyes on them. The peppers blacken up fast, but the tomatoes take longer. That gets whizzed up in the blender with a little water if you need it. Mix the powder with the liquid and add chopped chives and cilantro. Serve with tortilla wedges that have been brushed with oil and crisped in the oven.

We eat it as an afternoon snack or appetizer before dinner. If you can hang with the heat, it’s absolutely addictive. I suppose you could leave the peppers out, but they add a ton of flavor. Maybe just cut back a little?

My favorites from the “headed down into fall” list include, kabocha squash curry, stuffed cabbage, miso seafood chowder, chicken pot pie and venison meatloaf. I have a new slow cooker recipe for chicken and wild rice soup that sounds yummy. I also have a shrimp and grits recipe I’ve been eager to try. Dale’s not a grits fan, but when you add bacon, cheese and shrimp, something tells me he’ll go along with the plan.

What I’m Reading

I am still enjoying the Inspector Erlendur series by Arnaldur Indriðason. The setting is Reykjavík. The genre is Nordic Noir. He’s sort of a dark character, which somehow appeals to me. There’s subtle humor, great story lines and interesting characters. I’ve read six now, and I believe there are 11.

Not exactly recreational, but I’m also learning how to use Google Drive and reading all I can about best practices. I used a shared drive when I was working, but that all went out the window when I retired. The group I volunteered to help uses Google Drive, so that’s my motivation. It’s not hard, but like most things, it takes time to figure it all out.

Escape plan

These are the times that try men’s souls.

I don’t trust myself to write coherently about what is going on here in the USA. When people talked about having an escape plan and leaving the country after Trump was elected, I said you can run, but you can’t hide. Dark political forces never rest, no matter where you live. May as well stay and ride it out. Do what you can to resist, help others and try to enjoy life.

Nothing has changed. That’s still the plan, but geez, Trump’s U.N. speech was whackadoodle and now Don and Pete’s excellent adventure at Quantico … I find myself browsing sites that tell you how to leave.

Just window shopping. I’m ever hopeful we’ll pull through this. I don’t need much to keep me going. A key resignation. Mass resistance. Somebody with a backbone. The Epstein files. Every little bit counts.

In spite of it all, I feel pretty good. Thank you, God, for Jameson Black Barrel.

My meeting with the Indivisible contact was postponed, but it’s back on the schedule for this weekend. I’m excited to see how I can help. Dale and I are planning to attend one of the No Kings protests on Oct. 18. It’s just a matter of which location. I vote for easy parking.

I’m so grateful to have hobbies and interests that take me out of the current political moment and give me joy. As I’ve said time and again, it’s all about simple pleasures. Maybe I’m turning soft, or maybe just because it’s fall, but even noticing changes in the weather or the light feels like a gift.

You may recall I’ve been dabbling at art since Covid, and seriously, it has been a lifeline. I burn designs on wood and then paint them for a mural-like effect. I was using pallet scraps but recently decided to do something different. For Number 46, I purchased a piece of bass wood typically used for craft projects.

So, here she is. Number 46.

While the wood was nice to work with, I find it rather one-dimensional. I probably won’t buy it again. And I should be OK, because I bought a big box of some really cool reclaimed wood that I’m eager to try. I sanded a couple of them yesterday, so they’re primed and ready.

That’s my escape plan.