Behold four of our photogenic carolers singing in Kaisertown!
We had a good group heedless of the wind and weather, which is a phrase I seem to be using a lot lately. Kaisertown was not our easiest audience but the adventure is part of the fun.
Our Kaisertown set list included but was not limited to: "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," "Silent Night," "Adeste Fideles" (which we sang in Latin in a Pakistani deli), "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen," "Joy To the World," "Deck the Halls," "The First Nowell," "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and "Ding Dong Merrily on High." We did not attempt "In Dulci Jubilo" on this particular trip although in Black Rock we sang it on a street corner with great gusto. Kaisertown also did not get to experience our "Here We Come A-Wassailing." We did not get to that and the locals are the lesser for it.
My friend Lynn attempted later sensibly to point out that really all we need is four songs. She announced, "Next year we have decided we need to learn only four songs, because --"
I said, "We did not decide!"
That would be sensible! And Christmas is not about common sense.
Behold, I bring tidings of great joy, that next year our repertoire will at least double. I am of the mindset of Leonard Pennario who played something like 25 different concertos in a season and chafed if he was made to play the same thing more than twice in a row. I need variety.
Next weekend on our forays in Allentown and Williamsville I will be more organized as far as the sheet music and we may well attempt to sing all 12 of our carols.
Because I am going Christmas caroling tonight I finally began thinking today about what I would wear. And I had completely forgotten that I own an authentic Victorian coat!
OK, actually it is worse. I had completely forgotten that I own TWO authentic Victorian coats! Well, they might not be authentic but they look it. They are floor length, both of them. One of them trimmed in fur. The other one with a belt with a silver buckle. We have several gentlemen who have put together Victorian outfits so these coats are most welcome.
Only I could forget completely that I owned these coats. Here I had been thinking of wearing my medieval cloak. At least I did not forget I owned a medieval cloak.
I remembered the coats when I was driving home from Valu Home Center where I went to get flashlights so I could see the Latin words to "Adeste Fideles" which, not having a photographic memory like Leonard Pennario, I am still sketchy on the second verse. First I remembered the one coat, with the fur, and then I thought, don't I have another one, too?
Now that I see these coats I remember where I got both of them.
The one with the fur came from Ed's Warehouse up in Toronto. I went there with my friend Jacquetta and other girlfriends and they were selling off costumes for some historic Toronto theater. Technically this could be a costume but it is heavy enough to work as an actual coat. When I got it, this was a long time ago, I remember what I did was, I wore it to Midnight Mass at St. Louis Church. I made my entrance while the choir was singing the pre-Mass concert and it seemed to me that everyone in the church turned to stare at me. Which I loved. I was about 25. I sashayed up that aisle in my Victorian fur-trimmed coat and ostentatiously took a seat.
So that is one coat. The other one, with the silver buckle, I got at the dear departed Trinity Episcopal Church White Elephant Sale. They had them twice a year and I was so ubiquitous that I was named an Honorary Trinity White Elephant Worker even though I am a Papist. It is an honor I still treasure! Anyway, one year, when all I bought was this coat and an evening dress and a string of pearls. I walked out of there saying to myself, now I am set. This is all I need in life.
The Trinity coat, which has a Bloomingdale's label, is a little snug. It always was, I remember that now. But if I wear a sleeveless top underneath and a skinny skirt and don't eat I can get away with it. The fur trimmed coat is easier to wear but with all this water and slush, I do not want it dragging around. It would be great in snow but not in puddles. I would not want to put that coat through that.
Yesterday I stopped at Wegmans looking for tea. I had in mind some of those yummy Christmas brews, but they were all sold out, just a couple of Sugar Cookie Sleigh Rides sitting there forlornly on these empty shelves. So I bought Bengal Spice and a Chai Tea. My sister had told me how great Bengal Spice was.
Upon arriving home I tried it. And there it was! That telltale sort of jolt of sweetness. What is it about this stevia? Those are stevia leaves pictured above. Stevia just jumps out at you.
I looked at the box. Sure enough, there it was in the fine print: "Natural flavors."
Why don't they just put "stevia"?
Why do they have to fib about it?
It's not as if I really mind. Even the Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride, I kind of warmed up to that. I have been drinking it and enjoying it. It does taste like sugar cookies, darn it, and if stevia was what they needed to do that, so what.
Now that I am aware of it, I have even detected stevia in my favorite blend ...
... Sugar Plum Spice. Or here is the old box where they used to get to say Christmas and not Holiday.
I still love Sugar Plum Spice. I can't stop loving this tea just because I have learned there is stevia in it.
But why not put it? S-T-E-V-I-A Stevia?
They must figure people don't want it.
But if they figure people don't want it, why do they use it?
This reminds me of my Leonard Pennario book. There are things I puzzle over. I will catch myself sitting there, chin in hand, thinking: "But if this ... why that?"
There was this tea once at the Hoowa Supermarket that I need in situations like this. The box said: "For When You Need To Relax And Put Things in Perspective." I was just laughing about that last week with some friends. I could use that tea now.
We are insanely ambitious and have a repertoire of about a dozen songs including two verses in Latin of "Adeste Fideles" and also "In Dulci Jubilo" which is macaronic.
It crossed my mind to sing "O Holy Night" ...
... because Pennario loved that song and I do to. But a woman's gotta know her limitations.
Someone I was reading to or listening to in the last few weeks pointed out what an unusual treasure trove Christmas music is. It is almost all cultures. It is folk music, it is classical music, it is in all languages, it is ancient, it is new.
Give our caroling group enough time and we will sing it all!
But right now we are kind of this fledgling group. We are like the American troops in the Revolutionary War awaiting Baron von Steuben.
Oh well, every caroling group has to start somewhere. And you know what, we are pretty damned good. Even if we are wearing Buffalo Bills attire we will make a good showing. Sometime over the weekend we are going to start to take our show on the road and prove that.
Wow, adventures in driving! Today I got stuck before it was even 9 a.m.
Foolishly I had driven out thinking I would go downtown to Mass at St. Anthony's. Even more foolishly I told the organist, Josephine, when she called that I could pick her up. First I had to shovel this drift in front of my garage to get out and then I realized that the side street where my friend Josephine lives had not been plowed. Holy St. Anthony's cannoli, I was stuck!
In the middle of the street!
I was blocking the street but luckily at 8:30 a.m. nobody was around except for a few people with snowblowers. One man, he was like some kind of saint, he helped unstick me. This was after I had gone and gotten one of Josephine's snow shovels and failed to dig myself out.
You got to love Buffalo. Other people appeared on the scene and helped too and I was free, at least momentarily. Howard, wisely as it turned out, insisted that I come home. So I did. Between there and getting home I got stuck one more time, just for good measure. The same good people dug me out. I will never figure out exactly which people were helping me so I think what I will do is, I will go to Josephine's street, Norwalk Avenue, and leave a bag of cookies or something in everyone's mailbox. I owe them big!
So does Josephine. When I left, the snowblower guy was telling her he would drive her to church. "But you don't understand," Josephine was saying. "It's downtown by City Hall."
And he was saying, "That's OK. I'll still drive you."
Darn, I wanted to go too! We were having a church party I had been looking forward to. But on the other hand I just wanted to get this behemoth of a car home. I could not leave it in the street or get it into anyone's driveway. Also I admit it, I was just stressed out. First the other night and now this! Anyway, I left Josephine with this snowblower gentleman and as far as I know, they went together to St. Anthony's. I went home.
I took a nap because I had been up really early thanks to Leonard Pennario. Then I went to Mass at St. Mark's. I am lucky in that there is a church I can walk to in about two minutes.
This was another beautiful Buffalo experience, as it turned out. I was walking to church mostly in the street, because the snow was so heavy and piled everywhere. And other people were also walking in the street. When I got to the corner there were other people heading over from other directions, in ones, twos and threes. And I realized everyone was going the same place I was! Everyone was going to church!
It felt like a village in the 19th century!
The Mass was not what I am used to, and sure I miss my Gregorian chants, but it was gentle and sincere, it was so sweet, this snowy day, this church packed with people. Everyone into it, too -- men, women, kids, everyone. A very nice morning, after its dramatic start. A very nice day.
Later my niece and nephew came over and we baked cookies, la la la la la la.
Fa la la la la la la la la.
In my future this week: more cookie baking, more caroling, and a new yule activity, ice skating.
And not just any Aldi either. It was the one across from the Broadway Market. This is a glorious Aldi, spanking new. I had never been in it, I am ashamed to say. Yesterday after buying honey and a few other things at the Broadway Market, I knew the time had come.
It was a bright sunny morning, not at all like what we would get later. I walked in piously intending to buy butter. They have butter on sale this week for $1.69. Perhaps a couple of boxes, I thought.
I can almost recite it. Eggs, a pomegranate, chicken, a ham, and seven silos of steel cut oats because Howard loves steel-cut oats and they had them. It is an unpredictable Aldi item.
My little niece Barbara is going to be baking with me on Sunday so that was where Baker's Secret items came into play. Dark chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, a nifty Christmas sprinkling sugar set, plain white sugar, etc., etc. Coffee.
I bought all kinds of cheese, Happy Farms or Happy Valley or whatever it is called.
Anyway. It looks as if in the acknowledgments to my Leonard Pennario book might have to include Aldi. And Aldi should thank me back.
Isn't that a great Santa up above? It is Santa with an Aldi ham! Apparently it was part of a recent ad campaign in Australia where their Christmas is warm, with swimming and surfing. I have never been able quite to figure out how the world's weather works.
Howard and I celebrated our ninth (!) anniversary today.
Yesterday it took us forever to figure out if it was eight years or nine years. Neither of us had been keeping track! But it ends up it is nine years.
We went to Tokyo II and had the Love Boat. And this being Buffalo we used a coupon. There is a coupon to Tokyo II in the phone book. This being Buffalo we still have phone books.
The dinner followed an eventful day that culminated in my two-hour drive home from work in a snowstorm. That was a trip. I will say that. It looked for a while as if I were in a car wash!
You couldn't see and every couple of feet the police were making us detour. I kept being directed away from the direction I was supposed to be going in. The best was when I got to the Delaware Avenue "S" curves. The traffic had been inching along for a mile and all of a sudden you saw he reason: Everyone was being detoured down Rumsey Road.
I never saw that detour coming and when I finally saw it my heart sank. There was another half an hour, easily. Rumsey Road runs through Delaware Park and there was this single file line of cars and this forest of snow. It was like this big whiteout. I was driving through it thinking, "I don't know where I am." Thinking, "I do not blame Leonard Pennario for preferring California to this."
Many many prayers to St. Christopher were said, St. Christopher being the saint among the 14 Holy Helpers who is charged with getting you home in one piece.
He did his job today! I did get home in one piece to celebrate my wedding anniversary. With the Love Boat.
I put up my tree last night and so now I radiate Christmas. It is no wonder it was an amazing day for pre-Christmas presents.
My friend Patrick from church gave me this vinyl album, Christmas with the Oak Ridge Boys. That is it pictured above. It is a classic!
Patrick said, and he is right, that you do not even have to listen to it. Just to own it and be able to look at it is enough. There are some Leonard Pennario albums you could say that about to only with different meaning.
In another magical touch, the mechanic who did my car inspection today and fixed a few things that needed fixing gave me an Ugli Fruit when my car was ready.
Or it may have been a Uniq Fruit. Later I was wondering about this later. I did not want to insult the fruit by calling it Ugli if in fact it was Uniq.
Whatever it was the mechanic did not want it.
"It looks like a brain," he said.
He said another customer had given it to him earlier that day. The customer was some kind of a potter, and he taught kids pottery, and he has an eye toward unusual beauty, such as possessed by the Ugli Fruit. Or the Uniq Fruit. I still do not have it straight.
Now I have my Ugli Fruit and my Oak Ridge Boys Christmas album.
We had office cooking club and chickpeas came to my rescue.
It was a last-minute decision. Cooking club in general does not bring out the best in me. I can cook great dishes all week just for myself and/or Howard and our friends and whoever and then comes cooking club, where I am called on to show off my skills, and I tank. Well, it is not as if it is a disaster, not usually at least, but I often wind up thinking, I could do better.
This time around I did do better. I got off to a slow start the day before because although I knew I was making a soup or a stew, I could not make up my mind between chickpeas and black beans. And so, overnight, I cooked up a pound of both, in two crock pots.
I raise indecisiveness to a fine art!
The next day, Sunday we are talking, I was late in the game because I went to Mass and coffee hour and then there were the usual Leonard Pennario-related reasons. And then I went blithely to the Buffalo Philharmonic kids' concert, Jingle Bell Jam. That left me only an hour or so. Then I found this miracle recipe. It is Cinnamon Chicken Stew!
Perfect for the season, I thought. Cinnamon is such a wonderful flavor this time of year. The only thing I did was instead of the stick cinnamon I threw in a teaspoon or something or normal cinnamon. I had stick cinnamon, make no mistake. You can get it at Dollar Tree, a big jar, a great deal. But I did not think anyone wanted to bite into a big stick of cinnamon and the recipe said nothing about taking it out.
Anyway, end result as we say here in Buffalo, success!
And the clothes came out fine! The only thing that happened was that he found the butter box and all four of the wrappers the sticks had been wrapped in.
Me, if I threw a pound of butter into the laundry it would be a disaster.
It is not fair because yesterday, I did laundry, and in my haste to get back to my Pennario discography I failed to check all the pockets because a Kleenex got into the mix.
One Kleenex, and you would not believe the mess. The tights I was trying to wash, forget it. They are covered with lint! Anything black was hopeless.
The fie-ness and unfairness of it! Howard can wash clothes with a whole pound of butter thrown in and I forget one Kleenex, just one Kleenex, and, disaster.
Appliances understand Howard. His bread machines treat him better than my bread machine treats me. Coffee percolators like him better. Now it seems he has that gift of communicating with washing machines as well.
Finally I tried what I believe to be the last of the Celestial Seasonings Holiday Teas, the only one I think I have not tried.
It is Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride!
It is kind of eerie how much like a sugar cookie this tea tastes like. However it is not as good as the great, the hallowed, the iconic Sugar Plum Spice, or Candy Cane Lane. Those are better. I really cannot decide if I like this tea or not. I do not think it is that good.
Let us pause for a group shot.
Hmmm. Come to think of it I have not yet tried Nutcracker Sweet. That will be next! I am remiss in not having tried it. Over Thanksgiving my nieces were impressed by my collection of tea. They are like me. They are crazy about it.
Meanwhile I agree with a reviewer on Amazon who says that Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride is rather watery and not as flavorful as those other Celestial Seasonings teas, plus it has kind of an aftertaste. Plus it mysteriously mentions "natural flavors." What natural flavors? Consumers are saying it must contain stevia and I cannot say that I disagree.
However Sugar Cookie Sleigh Ride, as some consumers pointed out, can satisfy your sweet tooth. It does feel as if you are drinking a cookie.
Plus it has a great sounding first ingredient, more exotic than any of the ingredients in its holiday brethren. It is Milk Thistle!
What does Milk Thistle do to you? Let me find out. Ah! It helps your comprehension of the art of Leonard Pennario.
A bunch of us tried Christmas caroling at my house tonight. We have this idea that we can get passable and take our act to the streets 'round Christmas time.
It was funny because at first we were all shy. We didn't all know each other and there were introductions and people awkwardly sipped wine and cider. I am afraid I looked like a (rein)deer in the headlights. But then we got singing.
By the time Howard got home everyone was all loosened up to the extent that he recorded us singing what were at that point our most successful numbers, "The First Noel" and "Joy To the World."
In harmony! A cappella! With the words together. And there was something beautiful about it because the people who had thought they could not sing, sang. Not only that but they sounded good. Our friend Guy Boleri says everyone can sing and tonight taught us that he is right.
Rocks, hills and plains, repeat the sounding joy!
What's next, "O Holy Night"? That was a Christmas carol Leonard Pennario loved but not a great one for amateur singers. However we are improving by the day and so you never know.
We are planning a few more rehearsals and one of our number has gone to Hobby Lobby and made himself a Victorian top hat. That is hard-core caroling behavior. We are going to have our act together so when here we come a-caroling people will sit up and take notice.
This was totally one of those "Non, nobis, Domine" Thanksgivings!
I confess that I am sort of enjoying a more normal week
Holidays play a funny role in your life. They are like traveling to Europe in that all of a sudden you put your usual life aside and instead lose yourself in an array of fresh new challenges.
In Europe it is: Can you count out the right change and navigate the machines to make it onto the Paris Metro? Can you summon up enough German to order tickets to Mozart's "The Magic Flute"? Can you do it while you are jet lagged?
On Thanksgiving it is: Can you find the perfect turkey? Can you roast it properly? Can you get it out of the oven with three little nieces and nephews all jumping on your back and pulling your hair and playing hide and seek in your kitchen?
Can you coordinate the roasted cauliflower and the mashed potatoes and the cabbage and apples? And the gravy. What about the gravy?
Can you get all the dishes washed before you go to bed?
Today is only the first day of Advent and I am fighting the pull to put up my Christmas tree. Because it is the silver tree that Howard gave to me, it is here and it is in the basement and it is crying to get out.
I tell the tree, "No."
I remind the tree I am immersed in my Leonard Pennario scholarship.
Finally I lecture the tree that Advent is, ahem, a time of preparation and penance. The priest wears violet the way he does in Lent. That is why we are not supposed to put up trees very early.
As the song goes, it can't be wrong, if it feels so right!
I am in the yuletide spirit what with the thrilling readings this morning about casting off the darkness and putting on the garments of light. The night is past and the day is here. To top it off Dorothy, my 90-something friend I pick up and take to church, gave me a beautiful red and white striped scarf to wear. I believe this one is on loan but she is making me one for my own.
So that was a cool yule surprise! And this happened too, a dear friend gave me out of the blue an assortment of beautiful Christmas cards. That was funny because I am actually planning on sending out some Christmas cards this year. Plus, another fine gentleman we know gave Howard and me a basket full of hand bells. That was funny because a few friends and I are getting a group together to go Christmas caroling.
This season is sure shaping up to be merry and bright!
There is always something you need at the last minute for Thanksgiving and that is how it should be. Because you are going to have to make that last trip to the store one way or another. So you may as well have a concrete reason.
My reason was potatoes. I had completely forgotten them!
So out I go to Albrecht Discount. Aldi, by the way, is closed on Thanksgiving, so you can feel good about shopping there the day before.
They had a good deal on potatoes, a 15-pound sack for $4. I had not planned on buying 15 pounds of potatoes but why not, you know? I am a growing girl, or I will be, anyhow, after eating these. The potatoes have the greatest Aldi brand name. It is Heartland!
Aldi was calm and quiet and so I kept shopping. My purchases included but were not limited to:
-- Four bars of German chocolate. Leonard Pennario loved that German audiences loved him and the people who appreciate Pennario naturally have an appreciation for the fine things in life, including chocolate.
-- Five 8-ounce bricks of Happy Valley cheese.
-- A can of Beaumont coffee.
-- Two cauliflowers.
-- Two bags of Paradise Meadows cranberries, never mind that I have a freezer full. They were 99 cents!
-- A pomegranate.
-- A gallon of milk.
-- Two pints of whipping cream.
-- Three jars of French and German mustard, on sale for $1.29. This is the greatest mustard around.
-- Three pounds of sweet potatoes.
I cannot remember what else I bought. I am just listing these off the top of my head. All I know is that my bill came to $54 and when I got home I just kept hauling bag after bag into the house.
My friend Ryan has been boasting, and rightfully so, about having a Shur-Fine Thanksgiving. Here is his picture of his purchases.
Yesterday I went to the late yoga class at the Buffalo Athletic Club. I have kind of fallen in with taking yoga now and then despite my reservations. It is OK other than when the teacher goes into that gobbledygook where she asks you: "Set an intention for your practice tonight."
Ahem, an intention?
My intention is to tone myself up!
Then there is this further goofiness where you fold your hands and "seal your intention." Yeah right as Leonard Pennario used to say. This is when I fuss with my socks and sneakers.
Other than that I like this teacher and between this and the Pilates classes I have been taken I am getting stronger and stronger. Last night I was able to do the Plough pose ...
... which I could not do the other day.
I also did the Wheel!
I did not expect I would be able to do it but I pushed my hands into the mat as the teacher said and all of a sudden there I was, floating up there in the Wheel pose. From my upside-down vantage point I surveyed the room and I noticed that no one else was doing the pose. I was the only one! I freaked out seeing that. What did they know that I did not? What if my back snapped? What if I hurt myself?
Why was I up here in this crazy pose and nobody else was?
It actually did not feel bad. All my classes have been paying off and I think I am a little stronger. But I was happy when the teacher said to get down from there. "Enough of that!" I said.
A few minutes later the teacher tried leading us in a split.
"No," I told myself. "You are not going to do a split. We have never done a split. We are not going to start now."
Because all of a sudden I worried I would be able to do it. Heck, I'd done everything else!
Now when it is time to go to the gym I kind of worry.
The one thing about the months leading up to winter is you do not appreciate your ease of movement. You can drive here and there, no problem. You can just throw on clothes and leave the house.When it snows things are different!
Up above is a picture I took last year when we got to this point and I had to get on the bus. I put it on the Buzz Blog that I just linked to. All of a sudden Buffalo looks kind of picturesque, you know, when seen from safety behind a big bus window. You have those beautiful soft hues of white and blue and violet.
Here is another Ansel Adams shot from the Buzz Blog:
Bus riding is a skill everyone in Buffalo should have but it is amazing how many people do not have it. They do not know how much it costs or how to pay or which routes go where. Which is a pity because it can be fun to ride the bus. Sure, you never know who will be riding it with you. Hence a word I love, omnibus. It means a bus for all! Which, let us admit it, can have its bad side. Still, when the weather is cruddy there is nothing like sitting on this big bus as it maneuvers its way indifferently through traffic.
You can horse with your iPhone, you can not horse with your iPhone. You can sleep. Sometimes I do.
Anyway I suddenly see more bus rides in my future. Also good fortune for the Pennario book because of those long white nights where you have nothing to pursue but scholarship. OK, there is also wine with your friends, is another thing about winter. As my grammar slides south. Forgive me, it is a Monday morning.
My heart stirred this morning when I heard the words that signal Stir Up Sunday.
Stir Up Sunday gets its name because of the Collect prayer, which begins, "Excita, quaesumus, Domine," which means "Stir up, we beseech Thee, O Lord..."
Over the centuries people began taking that as the cue to stir up your puddings and fruitcakes!
There was that one Stir Up Sunday when I planned to make fruitcakes. I do not remember if I ever carried through with that plan. This year though, I have already carried through a plan. I made cookies!
They took a while. All cookies take a while, you know? In this case I had to shape them and roll them in sugar and cinnamon.
But they came out great! And I have forgotten how relaxing it is to make cookies, just by yourself, la la la la la la la. I was very pious and ate just one. At the coffee hour they went over big. All the kids were eating them. And as one gentleman pointed out, my cookies were competing with glazed doughnuts right next to them. That the kids were grabbing the cookies was a great compliment to the chef. I sure stirred things up there!
Every cookie has something that makes them wonderful and in the case of this cookie it is the texture. They are thin and really crisp and they are coated with granulated sugar so, yum. I do not have the sweet tooth that Leonard Pennario had but I do get excited about treats now and then. "Excita, Domine ..."
It is funny thinking back on Stir-Up Sunday a couple of years ago. I have fallen into such a medieval view of the seasons. Stir-Up Sunday is the last Sunday before Advent begins. Then Advent starts and you get the beautiful "Rorate" prayer. I have gotten used to all of this and anticipate it even though I did not grow up with it. Then in the middle of Advent comes Gaudete Sunday, "Rejoice."
Today I went to Tops. In Buffalo you are either a Tops person or a Wegmans person. I venture into Wegmans sometimes but mostly I am a Tops person! If you have never been to Tops above is a map to help you find one.
I got my Thanksgiving turkey. Leave it to me to find the biggest bird there, 22 pounds. I see what they mean about the shortage of huge turkeys. I panicked when I read that, I will tell you that right now!
Because I have to clean up my house before Thanksgiving I also got the world's hugest pack of paper towels. I had to make a separate trip into the house with it. It was the Tops brand 96-roll package. Well, not quite. But almost!
They were on sale so with 50 cents knocked off them they were $2.50. I think Wegmans has them cheaper but I am not a Wegmans person, I am a Tops person.
I got two Fresh Express salads for a dollar off. The little things that make your day, you know?
Here is one nice thing about Tops: You do not have to be dressed up to go there. I was in sneakers and heading to the gym for my Pilates class. I could walk around Tops with my head held high. And my huge turkey in the cart and my gigantic paper towel package beneath it.
Not everything is a bargain at Tops. Some things are insanely expensive. But there are deals to be had if you know where to look. Another thing, I admire Tops for leading the way on the turkey prices this year. Wegmans had in its ad, "We will not be undersold by Tops!" So Wegmans is being reactionary.
Haha, I just remembered, Howard told me about this friend he had a long time ago who had a doodad that allowed him to connect people on the phone, each thinking they called the other. Once put a divorced couple on the phone with each other. And another time he had Tops call Wegmans!
You get these people both talking politely, waiting for the other one to say why he called.
Once working on my Pennario book I put a divorced couple on the phone with each other. Well, I made it happen. The husband, this conductor, had to call his ex-wife. He wanted to confirm her memory of a story he told me. He got back in touch with me and said they hadn't talked to each other in I forget how many years. They were laughing together about this long-ago incident and I got the idea it was kind of surreal.
That is the kind of couple that Howard's friend would have had fun with.
Alas, that joke is probably over, with the advent of cell phones.
I went to PiYo class today where they tried to make us do the Crow. That is the Crow up above.
Will someone tell me why you would want to do this pose?
I mean, it is all on your wrists. I do not want my whole body supported on my wrists. Although I do admit it looks pretty entertaining. And you do kind of look like a crow, you know?
Entertaining as it was I resisted it.
No Crow for me!
It is kind of fun, this class. The teacher pads among us, saying, "Beautiful." The lights were off and all we had was the light coming in the glass block windows from the Cardio room. If I could not do a pose I would sit there and plan out my writing on Leonard Pennario.
At the end of the class the teacher is just kind of sitting there with her hands folded and her head down acting as if it is this sacred thing, and so you do not bother her.
It was like that once when I went to a yoga class at the Tri-Main Center with my friend Michelle. This hippie was leading the class and at the end she brought us through this long meditation. You were supposed to lie and close your eyes and not look up. But I looked up! And this teacher was sitting there just blissing out, sitting there crossed-legged among all these dozens of candles.
That was a great hippie scene! I do not know if I will see the like anytime soon, But in the meantime I think I am making good progress toward my exercise goals.
Today in the middle of going over stuff related to Leonard Pennario's "Rhapsody Under the Stars," I remembered it downstairs and took a quick break to check it out. Pennario would not mind. He loved to eat.
There are things called Party Poppers, on page 3. They call for Southern Grove Pitted Dates and Special Selected Thick Sliced Hickory Bacon.
Goat Cheese and Cherry Latkes, on page 5, call for Happy Farms Cream Cheese and Stonemill Essentials Iodized Salt. I am always attracted to Hanukkah recipes, you know? I think it is because Jewish food and German food have so much in common. This is stuff I grew up with. And even the recipes that do not remind me of home, the way potato pancakes do, sound interesting. Often they are Mediterranean or Israeli. I have been noticing when the cooking magazines send their December issues, the Hanukkah article is always one of the first things I go to.
Where was I? How did I get onto the subject of healthy food? Fie on healthy food, fie. Back to the Aldi Christmas cookbook.
The best recipe is on Page 6. It is Tiggy!
Beneath it, in small print, the explanation:
"Turkey stuffed with piggy."
That is Tiggy pictured above. It must be made. I will be purchasing Appleton Farms Pork Sausage Roll as well as Kirkwood Boneless Turkey Breast, thawed.
It was weird this morning to have the dusting of snow. That is all we had here where I live, just a dusting. But it was enough to change the light and the feel of the room.
When I came out of the shower wrapped in a towel and walked to the closet to get dressed, something was different and that was what it was.
Hardly any but still.
One thing I could not believe, I was listening to the Christmas station, WJYE. Do not ask me why I listen to the Christmas station this early. It is just another option I add to my car listening along with WBEN and Catholic Radio and my Leonard Pennario recordings. Anyway, the guy on this Christmas station, Joy FM, what does he say about the snow?
"Well, Old Man Winter paid us a visit last night."
Dourly! He went on to announce the next number, which was Rod Stewart singing "My Favorite Things" ...
...so all was forgiven as far as I was concerned.
But come on!
That station should trot out its best Shane Brother Shane impression and go, "OK, people wonder why we're blasting Christmas music at you this early. This is why. Look outside, folks! Snow on the ground! Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! I've got my love to keep me warm! It's that time of the year! And you came to the right place. We're going to be bringing you all kinds of snowy songs. Here we go ...."
Now that I am slicing and dicing with my newly sharpened knives I have a new favorite food.
Also called Napa cabbage. That is it, pictured magnificently above. Tonight after going to the gym and buying square Christmas records at Goodwill, what I did was, I chopped up a pan full and put it in a 400 degree oven coated lightly with a little canola oil and kosher salt. It cooked up amazingly.
This came from the Clinton-Bailey Market on Saturday, as if you had to ask.
What didn't I buy at the market!
Holy cannoli, I bought three cabbages. There is the Napa cabbage and this huge Savoy cabbage ...
... and a red cabbage.
Not for nothing do they call me a Kraut!
I also bought a huge bunch of red peppers and three green peppers and two gallons of cider and some miniature watermelon and I forget what else. We ate one of these Personal Watermelon tonight. And a half bushel of apples. And two cauliflowers. I am hopeless at the market. Hopeless.
Then I went home and worked on the book on Leonard Pennario and left my purchases sitting in plastic bags in the kitchen. Only later did I go downstairs and look at it.
Cabbage is delicious and you can do a million things with it. As one chef pointed out, you do not even have to wash it, just cut it up and you are set. Not only that but as I am eating it I have lost two pounds.
Yesterday, great excitement. I got my knives sharpened!
It is a metaphor for how my life is going. I have this surge going with my book and I get my knives sharpened. I went over last night to my friends' Mike and Melinda's house with my knives and a bottle of wine and Mike sharpened my knives. And we all drank the wine. This did not all happen at the same time or else I probably would not be here writing this.
It is thrilling to have sharp knives. Mike was laughing because I have not sharpened these knives in forever. They are Henckel knives and they were a wedding present from my Aunt Marce and Uncle James. Above is a picture from World Knives of the Henckel knife making team from 1903, in Solingen, Germany. Those are the folks who made my knives! I treasure them. But for a long time I have not sharpened them.
Mike said the big knife had no edge at all!, zut alors and son of a garlic-chopping sea cook.
Anyway, he and Melinda wrapped my sharp knives in a dish towel for me and home I went with them. I got home kind of late and Howard and I ate dinner even later because I could not stop chopping and dicing things. Chopping an onion was a pleasure!
"Be careful!" Howard said. "You're going to cut your fingers off."
"Howard," I lectured. "I have read all about this and it is the dull knives that cut you. When your knives are sharp it's much safer. You don't cut yourself --"
"Bull!" Howard yelled.
Howard is right. His name means "noble watchman," remember? And so I am careful. But still I am enjoying these knives. This morning between polishing up my incisive assessments of two Pennario albums I went and shredded a cabbage. The Henckel went through it like butter.
What a joy. My brother-in-law David is going to be really happy I did this, too, I will tell you that. Because it is his job to carve the Thanksgiving turkey and I am always handing him dull knives. No more!
It's the little things that make your life a cut above!