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Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Brown Butter Skillet Cornbread on a Dreary Day 

Rainy day, two freelance writers waiting for mail carrier to deliver paychecks, no such luck, keeping house heat low to conserve oil, very skimpy grocery budget. Light bulb! Make Melissa Clark's marvelous Brown Butter Skillet Cornbread. I have her very good cookbook, and that version calls for sour cream or whole milk yogurt and 1 stick butter [not the 1.5 sticks listed now on NY Times website version]. Melissa must have tweaked it. Alas, I had the butter but used Cabot 2% Greek yogurt from back of fridge. and Bob's Red Mill Ivory whole-grain flour. H. and I loved it but current recipe on cooking.nytimes.com looks better, with buttermilk and more maple syrup. I think I've made that one, too. Yum. So simple and good. But my hopes of giving Punchy a wholesome snack fell through; she snubbed it. Can't say I didn't try. Good night. TCOY
  1. Nice 8 a.m. yoga class.
  2. Rummaged thru fridge and found a chicken sausage and barrel jar of sauerkraut for lunch. Nice browned together in skillet and eaten w Grey Poupon Dijon Mustard.
  3. Walked Sug around block.
  4. Good dental care.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Would Love to Write Now, but Lavender Bath Calling

TCOY
  1. Applied for another job. Getting the ball rolling.
  2. That bath.
  3. Little cup of Annie's brand whole milk berry yogurt for snack. It's good. Bought for finicky Punch, like for me also.
Good night.

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Lights Out 

I walked in and out of town twice today; two round trips of 50 minutes plus. First to get to my support group and the P.O., then to keep Punch and her classmate occupied on a long afternoon play date. It was nice, but at 10:20  p.m. the Energizer Bunny is still motoring full speed ahead. Yikes. Good night.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Postcard from the New York Public Library

Back in the space where my mom and her dear friend, Alice, worked as young women in the 1940s. I'm in a room where you can get a guest pass and use a big HP desktop computer for free 45-minute increments--a far, modern cry from the stacks where they worked. I didn't want to lug my laptop in, since I had to trek down to Wall Street for a work task.

I like to think of connecting to my mother here, to think of her seeing me now. She was a vivacious young lady, with long chestnut hair, luminous brown eyes and an Irish smile.

Mom, can you see me? Here I am. Where you worked. 
I can't believe I'm as old now as you were when you died. I still regret how painful that must have been for you. I wish I could have somehow smoothed your path, your exit. But I was there to listen at the end, and you did say some important things.
I'm doing my best in life. Actually, I'm kind of a mess. Some of my clothing is in heaps, my nice wedding dresser could use a dusting with Pledge, my home office is cluttered and last night, I saw a tiny mouse dart out from under the fridge when I got up for cheese and crackers at 3 a.m.
I'm aging; my knees hurt a little when I climb subway stairs. I'm bad about taking care of my skin. I struggle to take good care of my teeth. I don't always eat right. I spend too much money. And you were right, if I kept frowning like that, I'd get a wrinkle. I did--but as a writer, my brow furrows in concentration. Part of that frown is hard-won dues.
On the bright side, I am a good person. I am doing my best to be good and true. It is not always easy. I've cried my share of tears.
Have you seen Annie? Are you watching over her somehow? Tracking her? I need you. I hope and pray that you are. I think she is like you in many ways. You were a chemist. She is studying biology. You were gregarious; so is she.
What about Lexie? I need you there, too. Even though she's a handful, she is surely a golden-hearted girl. Have you seen her?
Well, until next time. But I hope I can stay connected to you. It gets hard after so many years. Yet I think you are in me, as every mother is in her daughter, for better, for worse, and for everything in between.

FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 2017 NEW YORK HIT LIST
  • New York Stock Exchange. Saw the elegant gold and white building from outside. Couldn't help but think of Sigourney Weaver and Melanie Griffith in "Working Girl."
  • Trinity Church Cemetery. There lies the seaman, U.S. naval officer James Lawrence, known for the phrase "Don't give up the ship"--words he uttered to the crew as he went down in the War of 1812. He is buried with his wife and his second in command.
  • Alexander Hamilton's grave. I still haven't seen the Broadway musical, but was moved to come upon Hamilton's resting place in the graveyard [right near Officer Lawrence].
  • Maiden Lane. I like that street name.
  • Wall Street energy. Men in cutting-edge eyeglass frames, tailored coats. Carrying fine, supple leather totes, draped crosswise over their bodies. Delivery men hurrying along on bikes, their handlebars lined with shopping bags full of lunch for VIPs. 
  • Coffee, coffee everywhere. A small Starbucks was tucked among the many trendy coffee bars. Even the wealthiest people in the world like a Flat White every now and then. And if you work on the NYSE, I wonder, how many coffees do you drink a day?
  • The hustle and bustle of tourists. Nothing quite like it on a Friday afternoon, drizzling skies or not.
My session is about to end. Signing off.




Thursday, March 23, 2017

Brown Rice Bowl

My iPhone has been sitting in a bowl of uncooked brown rice to dry it out. (This is a healthy household.) It is limping along. I did a few things right today. Good night.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

In Need of Life Jacket, Women's XL

Or a hard hat. Or a new heart. Or an insulated vest. Or even a soft down jacket. SOS. Need something to protect me from life's uglies. For that matter, those around me could also use a buffer. Rough time. And I'm on H.'s cell phone. Mine fell in dishwater and is out of commission. Good night.