Tabula Rasa...It's a Good Thing

My computer doctor/guru rang the doorbell this morning.  Under his arm he had the tower.  This desktop is now almost 8 years old.  I have babied it along making sure it always had what it needed as far as protection went.  When I originally bought it, as I do with everything, I got the very best that I could afford.  I made sure that it had tons of memory because I keep lots of photos/graphics, lots of writing, lots of files.......

One of the things I've alwys tried to do is to understand how things work.  One of the very few regrets that I have in life is that I was born just about a decade too early to be well and truly and educated computer geek.  I would have enjoyed being locked in a room some place employed as a software engineer or something else very technical.  I know this because I know me.  For one thing, I am basically a loner.  I live inside my own head.  When one writes a dissertation for a doctorate, chapter one always states the problem by stating the hypothesis in the null.  It's rather exciting to have figured out your topic for original research.  Chapter two is the literature review.  The literature review is pages and footnoted citations of previously published literature from a myriad of highly credible professional sources.  One spends hours and hours, days and days, months and months and sometimes even years and years in the university library scouring professional journals and academic literature to find not just any old works, but the correct works to support your problem.  Basically, it's "what do we already know about this area/problem."  Chapter three is methodology, ie what am I going to do to conduct the study...what instruments of testing will I develop, what measurements (ie multiple stepwise regression analysi or some other quantative measure) will I use to analayze the gatered data.  Chapter four is the results and chapter 5 is a discussion of the results and how your conclusion can be used in a real world application.  Most people hate chapter two.  It's tedious.  It's labor intensive.  It's dry.  I loved chapter two.  It was my favorite.  I loved being alone in that big old university library.  Everyone was quiet.  No one bothered you.  You sat by yourself.  You went from floor to floor section to section like a treasure hunter all alone in a cave. 

 Knowing this about myself is why I think if I had been born earlier, I'd have been a techie geek of some sort.  As it was, I went into the doctoral program that offered me a free ride.  In spite of my preference for geeky solitude, I learned to become adept at "working a crowd" and using interpersonal skills as easily as intrapersonal skills.  I can gladhand with the best of them.  I learned to become politically savvy with patrons.  It's all part of the hocus pocus that keeps your local school superintendent employed.  I also was fortunate enough and well connected enough once I finished the doctoral program to be hired out under the university auspices but paid by the local districts who needed a hired gun to pull their collected fat from the fires of ineptitude which they had created for themselves years ago .  I was good at what I did, namely revamp pathetically poor schools by having the skills and intestinal fortitude to be able to fire long tenured inefficient teachers.  I entered every district with a superintendent generated hit list of "should have never been given tenure by some prior weak principal all those years ago"   I had a strong background in school law, specifically teacher tenure law.  I knew due process as well as I knew my own name.  Dismissing a tenured teacher is a multi-year process.  A very few teachers cooperate to improve.  Those who can and are smart enough see the writing on the wall take an early retirement.  Some scramble and get hired in another district.  And some, well, they think "I've outlasted other building level administrators and have seen them come and go.  I can outlast this one too."  Those were the stupid AND inefficient teachers.  The ones who damage kids by their sheer vanity and  ineptitude.  Those were the ones with whom I went to the wall.  My job was lonely and it was stressful.  But I kept it simple.  I used only one guiding principle, "school is about what is best for kids.."  If a teacher wasn't best for kids and if a teacher didn't choose to want to cooperate and improve with help of course to become about what was best for kids, that teacher was my enemy.  It was just that simple.  Good teachers loved me, marginal teachers werescared to death, poor teachers hated my guts. Oh well.  I did this everyday until February 14, 1999 when Mayo Clinic informed me I was ill.  One day I was working, shortly thereafter I wasn't.  I ended up coming to Florida alone for medical treatment.  I met my husband the first week I was here and have remained.

Now, we return to the computer doctor at my door this morning.  Yes, it has been a convoluted journey to get back to him.  It's my journal and my story so we get there my way.  You pays your money and you takes your chances, My Friends.  I have, after six years, let my husband share the desktop.  We got rid of his old one and I said I'd share mine.  One day my computer was working and the next day it wasn't.  I know how a computer works, what helps it, what hurts it...that's me.  Husband doesn't care how a computer works.  He doesn't want to know.  He just wants to bang it and go.  He doesn't ever want to understand it.  Rather than  using a Trojan, husband picked one up somewhere on the web.  I spent days trying to find it.  I tried everything.  Finally I gave up and called Keith.  He said, "Do you want the expensive way or the cheap way?"  I said, "Tell me the difference.:  He said, "I can sit here for hours at one hundred dollars an hour and  try to find that trojan horse or I can take the tower home and do a system restore if you have your old original disks.  You can sit here for days backing up whatever files you want and then call me again.  It's up to you."  I thought about my hundreds and hundreds of links, my scads of graphics, all my programs, all of my stuff in Word, my Front Page webpage stuff.  I thought, that if I didn't care enough about any of it to back it up before then how much does any of it really mean to me?  Evidently not much.  I also thought about how one day I was a blue suit wearing hired gun making lots of money, living single and living large, living alone with no time to enjoy that money and no one with whom to enjoy it.  I thought about how I came here and started over and have had the best years of my life with a man I adore.  Sometimes I miss the Me that was, but mostly I don't.  I dug around and found the restore disk and whatever else Keith wanted and  handed them over.

At the moment I sit here at my desktop.  Literally thousands of files are gone.  I have no regrets. I've learned through the bigger picture that is life that none of this is important.  I am sitting here happily communicating with you, whomever you might be.  What has gone before is gone, the future is yet to unfold.  I'm living in the moment.  This desktop and I are born again computer virgins with no files weighing us down.  We're free to begin again.  Tabula Rasa...We all should practice it more often...It IS a good thing.


Posted on Saturday, October 13, 2007 at 09:05PM by Registered CommenterPerpetually Perplexed in | Comments1 Comment

Treatise on a Quiche...

I was in the cooking mood.  Cooking is one of my purest pleasures in life.  Called Edith and Bernie at 4:30 and said to come for dinner at 6:30.  It was a success.

 

Pie Crust (I will assume here that everyone has their own favorite piecrust recipe.  If yours is for dessert piecrust, of course reduce the sugar)

  • lay in pan, pick bottom
  • fit aluminum foil to pan
  • fill with rice, dried beans or pie weights if you have them (mine appear to be misplaced)
  • bake 400 degrees for 15 minutes
  • remove from oven, remove foil and beans, brush with 1 Tablespoon Dijon mustard
  • bake for 5 minutes more, remove and place on rack
  • reduce oven to 350 degrees

  • Saute' bacon, remove, drain pan then saute' onion/shallots

  • beat 3 jumbo eggs with 3/4cup heavy cream and 3/4cup whole milk; add salt and freshly ground pepper

  • sprinkle 1 cup shredded Gueyere cheese (or Swiss, but remember always, quality of ingredients sings the tune to the palate) over bottom of crust; add onions, add bacon; top with another cup of cheese. pour egg/cream mixture over

 

  • At this point I cover the edges of the crust with foil to prevent overbrowning.  Bake for 35-45 minutes or until inserted knife comes out clean.  Cool on rack.  Serve warm or at room temperature.

NOTE TO SELF:  YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF THIS CRUST.  THE DAMNED THING SHRUNK.  FORGET THE PIE PAN AND BUY YOURSELF A GOOD QUICHE PAN AND ANOTHER SET OF WEIGHTS WHILE YOU STILL HAVE YOUR WILLIAMS SONOMA DISCOUNT. YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER GIVEN DAUGHTER YOUR GOOD QUICHE PAN.  SHE PROBABLY USES IT AS THE CAT'S BOWL.

RANT TO SELF:

FOR THE LOVE OF MIKE!!!  WHY WOULD ANYONE EVER BUY/USE ICEBERG LETTUCE WHEN THIS (BABY BIBB) IS READILY AVAILABLE AND IS THE SAME PRICE.  ICEBERG LETTUCE HAS ONLY ONE TASTE...BITTER.  CAN ANYONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME?

AND ANOTHER THING:

WHY WOULD YOU BUY A PRE-MADE SALAD DRESSING FULL OF CHEMICALS AND PRESERVTIVES AND WHO KNOWS WHAT WHEN YOU COULD MAKE THIS...

DANA'S HOUSE DRESSING

In bottom of your salad bowl combine:

3 spoonfuls olive oil...not Wesson, not Crisco...OLIVE

(I just use my spoon that is the one that goes to my salad tossing long handled spoon and fork.  It's the porportion that counts not the spoon.  Use any big spoon you like as long as you end up with enough dressing.)

1 spoonful vinegar (Now, it's 1 spoonful if I'm using an imported French Tarragon (my preferred) because it's fairly mild but if I use Balsamic or anything else, I reduce it to 3/4 spoonful)

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

pinch of coarse salt

grind of coarse pepper

handful of finely diced shallots

mix, mix, mix (by stirring) all of this together to emulsify.  It will become thick as you stir until your hand gets tired.  Now, here's the beauty....you can, up until an hour or more before your dinner just lay your lettuce on top of the dressing and keep it all in the refrigerator until dinner is served. Toss just before serving.  I seldom add anything else to the salad, not wanting to gild the lily.  One in a while, if I find a really beautiful tomato, I will dice it and add, but here in Florida that is very seldom.

 I always serve salad as a first course, not with the meal.  I do this because I really do believe that a truly good salad stands on it's own and deserves to be appreciated that way.  With the meal, I try to balance textures, colors and taste.  I want the salad to awaken the tastebuds and give a hint of the marvelous tastes yet to be savored...Foreplay, if you will.


Posted on Saturday, October 13, 2007 at 09:03PM by Registered CommenterPerpetually Perplexed in | CommentsPost a Comment

Training Day...

DISCLAIMER:

NO PERFORMANCE ENHANCING DRUGS HAVE BEEN DETECTED IN THIS ATHLETE...unless, of course, Snausages count.

 

I am, if anything, stubborn....

 

As with any athlete and coach, we critique our taining videos, trying to analyze errors and how we can improve...excuse the headcoach's hanging bra strap.


Posted on Saturday, October 13, 2007 at 09:01PM by Registered CommenterPerpetually Perplexed | CommentsPost a Comment

Eh?...Stop Mumbling!

gossip.jpgToday the sun shines. After so many days of heavy rain, I don’t even complain about the heat. I am just glad to close my eyes and hold my face to the sun. I stay so busy, wondering in odd moments as I do household chores, how I ever found the time to work. My husband is glad to have me home. He’s unlike me. He likes having someone else around all the time. He has the dog and now, once again he has me. I’m not sure which of us he prefers. It really isn’t important that I know. Why should I inquire and hurt my own feelings if I don’t get the answer I want?
Today we had an “issue.” Husband is getting more and more deaf with each passing year. His deafness has it’s comical moments. Recently when we were camping, I was seated outside under the awning. Flies were bothering me. As husband was inside, I loudly asked,
 “Would you please bring me the fly swatter when you come out again?”
 “What?” he replied.  
“Would you please bring me the fly swatter when you come out again?” I stridently shrieked.
 “What?” he answered once again.
“The fly swatter, I need the fly swatter!”
“Oh, ok, just a tic. Be right out.”
He walked out the door of the trailer a few minutes later and handed me a glass of ice water.
“What’s this for?” I quizzically asked.
“It’s what you’ve been screeching about for the last five minutes, your glass of ice water! Don’t you want it now?”
That incident I can laugh about, but it gets worse and worse as husband’s hearing deteriorates. I guess the biggest issue is that he refuses to even admit he has a hearing problem. His loss of hearing is isolating us from each other. We have a huge great room where we watch television. He has the volume of the television so loud that in the last couple of years I’ve just retreated to the office and mess around on the computer. I can’t even watch the television in our bedroom because his volume in the great room trumps mine in the bedroom.  When I have to repeat things three and four times, it's frustrating.  When I have to do it all day long it's fatiguing.  When I try to discuss the problem with him, he says he's hearing is fine, I just don't speak properly.  I mumble.  When I point out that he doesn't often hear other people as well he says, "well, it's your damn American accents plus you all talk like you have marbles in your mouth."
Now to today’s issue…last night I was in the office and the phone rang. I heard husband pick up the great room extension and say, “Yes, fine, that’s fine I’ll call the gate.” I went in and asked what the call was about. “Oh, the window cleaners you called will be here tomorrow at eleven.” Hmmmm I thought. “They weren’t supposed to come until Oct. 1st” I said. “Well, that’s Monday so maybe they decided to come early” I added. I got up early and got the house ready for window cleaners, moving things, dusting wooden blinds etc.. Eleven o’clock came and went. So did twelve and one and two o’clock…no window cleaners. I called their office at 2PM. The secretary informed me that we were scheduled for Monday, October 1st at 11AM and that she personally had confirmed it with my husband yesterday. I’m sure she did. But, as husband will not admit that he has a problem, he just guesses at what people are saying from the bits of language he catches.
I feel sorry for husband that he is going deaf. I feel sorry for me that he is going deaf. Maybe I’m asking too much to think he should admit he’s going deaf. When I tell him he’s going deaf and what a problem it’s becoming he gets defensive and says, “Well, I have the best hearing on my tennis team. You should see So-and-So and So-and-So, I have hearing like a German Shepherd compared to them!” 
 I feel sorry for So-and-Sos’ wives, too…

Posted on Saturday, September 29, 2007 at 10:17PM by Registered CommenterPerpetually Perplexed in | CommentsPost a Comment | References2 References

Forget the Keys...

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After entertaining at dinner Sunday evening, we were scheduled to leave for the Keys bright and early Monday morning.  To that end, I really scurried around until late Sunday night cleaning, straightening and packing up.  I finally got to sleep around 2 AM and then spent the rest of the night tossing and turning.  When I'd finally fall asleep, I be jolted upright by huge house-shaking rolls of thunder and sharp cracks of lightning.  By 5:30AM I was on the computer checking weather reports for South Florida.  Thunderstorms scheduled everyday until Thursday (today) and we were scheduled to come back home on Friday anyway.  I made the executive decision to cancel our trip.
We have had solid rain here Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  Pretty much torrential rains.  Our little lake is almost up to our back door.  There is palm bark everywhere.  This morning though, the sun is shining.  I have not been dismayed by not going camping.  I enjoy just being home.  Let's see, what have I done?  Well, for one thing I have spent a fair amount of time trying to teach Taffy to "Sit, down, roll over."  Actually, I've spent hours and hours.  Let's put it this way...she's not the smartest fur coat on the rack. 
taffysm.jpg
When I taught Razz, she learned the command in about an hour and worked for small chunks of Swiss cheese.  I've been working with Taffy three times a day for the past three days and had to up the ante to Beggin' Strips.  The kicker is that she already knows "sit" and "down" so it's just the "Over" part we're doing that's new.  I sit on the floor and ad nausea repeat, "sit" (she sometimes "spins" (another trick I taught her) instead of sitting, then I yell "down" pointing to the floor and she goes down, but she's so excited she's twitching all over, then I grab her harness and roll her over shouting "OVER!" and then give her the Begging Strip.  She grabs the Begggin' Strip and starts spinning in circles before running and hiding under the dining room table to eat it. Every single time I have to haul myself up off the carpet and crawl under the dining room table to haul her out by her harness to go through the routine again. I look up at John who is sitting in his recliner with a book and say “She’s no Razz, is she?” He becomes all defensive and tries to explain everything away by saying “Well, she is Welsh, you know.” Evidently if I were English as he is, I’d understand the ramifications of his pronouncement based upon the dog’s heritage and ancestry.
When I roll Taffy over, I realize how fat she's gotten since Razz died on November 3rd at 4.57PM (not that I'm still traumatized by it or anything).  She's like a little barrel.  People will ask me, "Is Taffy still grieving for Razz?"  My eyes tear up at the very mention of Razz and I look over at that little traitor Taffy and reply, "Hell No she doesn't grieve and never did!  She was just as happy as could be to see Razz go!  ALL the food is HERS!  ALL the toys are HERS!  ALL the attention is HERS!  SHE has Daddy all to herself.  And, I've practically moved into the guest room to sleep because SHE and HER precious "Daddy”, as she refers to him sleep right smack dab in the middle of the king sized bed leaving me no room.  And, .they both snore.  No, she does not miss my beloved Razz Ma Tazz." Anyway, I am determined that this little spoiled scoundrel, the “other woman” in my life, is going to work for her treats. She and her “Daddy” may not remember, but long before I became an administrator, I was a teacher. I taught severely emotionally disturbed urban inner-city apprentice gang bangers. If I could get them on a behavior mod. reward system for performance I sure as heck can do it for a fur covered idiot savant. If she can, without fail and never vary by 2 minutes, twice a day at 9 AM and 3PM, spring up from a sound sleep, run into the kitchen, jump on the pantry door and bang the holder for her Publix poop bags signifying walk time, she can sure as heck roll over for me. I have no clue how she tells time, especially when we change the clocks and she’s still right on the money.  She’s got until Saturday to get the trick down pat or there will be consequences. I’m not sure what those consequences will be yet, but I can be very creative. And if John says one more time, “oh leave the poor dog alone, she’s not a circus animal, you know”, I’ll think up some consequences for him too! I am if anything….Stubborn with a capital S.
Speaking of the S word. Yesterday between teaching sessions I was determined to make a crème caramel as good as Edith’s. I scoured recipes and combined two that ummm…I dunno, just felt “right.” Husband and I always have big discussions about “intuitive” cooks vs. “cooks.” He contends that I am an intuitive cook which he tries to explain as sort of like being able to draw or paint. I think it’s just more a matter of lots of experience and an analytical mind. Who knows? If I do say so myself, my crème caramel was as good as if not slightly smoother than Edith’s …shhhhhh….I took photos as I went along.
Swirl caramelized sugar (1 cup sugar, 4T water, bring to a boil and boil for about 5 mins until it turns a beautiful golden brown) around glass bowl
5 eggs (I always use jumbo eggs)and 1/4 cup sugar
Wisk eggs with 1/4cup sugar, add 1 cup milk and 1 cup heavy cream, 2 tsp PURE vanilla extract (you cannot cook French and be a cheap cook!  Why do you think French food is so good?)
Bring the egg, sugar, milk, cream, vanilla mixture just to a boil and remove for heat.  Use a good quality heavy pan and stir often.  Cover and let sit for 20 minutes.
Place bowl of carmelized sugar into a roasting pan and fill with boiling water to halfway up the sides of the bowl.  Pour the slightly cooled milk mixture into bowl with carmelized sugar.  Cover with foil.  Pop into a preheated 325 oven for about 40 minutes.  I have a convection oven so your time may vary.  That's why it has that big fan in the back...see?I could not exist without my convection oven.
Check for doness by inserting thin blade knife 2 inces from rim.  Knife should come out clean.  Do not overcook.
Cool for 30 minutes.  Place in refrigerator for at least six hours or overnight.  Remove from bowl by placing a plate over top of bowl and CAREFULLY flipping the whole kit and kaboodle over.  Or if just for family and presentation isn't your thing (we can't all be as uptight as I am) just serve it out of the bowl in which it was cooked.
VOILA'!!!!!!!!!  NOTE:  THIS WAS INCREDIBLY EASY TO MAKE...sort of like sex, once you get past the mystery excitement of it all when you're young, you realize that it was much ado about nothing (don't you love Shakespeare mixed in with sex talk and cooking recipes?)
Last but not least…raise your hand if you think I should go back to work again. Thinking about what I just wrote I sound like a bored, slightly batty ,aging but still youngish and energetic retiree. Obviously, I’m losing it. Think carefully before raising that hand…there but for the grace of whatever goes each of you one day.

Posted on Thursday, September 27, 2007 at 11:04AM by Registered CommenterPerpetually Perplexed in | CommentsPost a Comment | References2 References
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