Sharing a Bench in Antibes

Random Photo of the Day - Antibes, France

I was looking through some old photos this morning and found today's RPOTD.  I remember taking that photo as we strolled along the sea wall in the harbor area of Antibes.  I was struck by the elderly couple sitting on the wooden bench in the sun, sharing the simple companionable act of feeding the pigeons.  It is easy to imagine that they have done this same communion with nature and each other many, many times. Such a simple act defines, for me at least, how life and marriage really, near the end years of a journey together, become distilled in the radiant beauty of sitting side by side, faces to the sun, perhaps not saying one word to each other, just "being" together.

I have been alive for three thousand two hundred and forty-four weeks.  That's very sobering to figure out.  I couldn't find the small calculator so I did it out on paper.  When I looked at the product of my calculations I thought, "Wow!  Those weeks of my life have surely been a virtual treasure trove of experiences, some sad, most joyful."  I realize that I have been given the gift of a long and interesting life, filled with  every human experience.  What a lucky woman I have been.  I also have come to realize that I have no regrets.  My children are grown.  I have seen my grandchildren born.  I have loved my husband with a love I never could have imagined ever existed.  It took me two thousand five hundred and forty-eight weeks to find him.  It takes billions of years for carbon to turn to diamond so I am way ahead of the game.  All I really want from life is to be like the couple in the photo...to simply "be" with John, to hold our faces to the sun for as long as we have together.  When I sit and sort and sift and ponder life's complexities, I am amazed how simple our wants and needs become when we reach a certain stage of life.  I guess that is why I was moved to take a photo of an unknown, grey haired, elderly couple in far away Antibes, France.  Probably, most people are more moved by the scenic beauty of Antibes and I have photos of that also.  But I am, as always, more in awe of the beauty of my fellow human beings...color me weird.

I have just returned from the frozen tundra of Canada where I spent some time with my widowed eighty-four year old father.  I will write of that tomorrow.

My World Today

                      

Random Photo of the Day:  Gijon, Spain...April 2009 

The RPofD above was taken during our incredible 17 night TransAtlantic cruise.  I was thinking of it today because last evening I booked a 5 night Caribbean cruise for sixteen days from now.  One of the advantages of being retired and living in coastal Florida is that we can take advantage of last minute cruise specials.  I hope you are sitting down...we paid $179 per person, plus tax, of course.  It's for an inside state room, but often one is upgraded at the last minute, depending on unsold rooms.  We wouldn't do an inside for a longer cruise, but we've found that we spend little time in our state room except for sleeping anyway.  This particular cruisegoes from Miami to Hondouras to Cozumel and then back to Miami.  We don't even care if we get off the ship, we just want to be waited on hand and foot and to eat scrumptious meals served by handsome foreign accented waiters.  We have booked one dinner in the speciality restaurant, Murano, always a magnificent meal.  The other meals we will eat in the main dining room.  We are going on Celebrity, our preferred cruise line.  I really, really need the break and neither of us has ever been to Roatan or Cozumel.  We are not booking any excursions.  If we decide to see something, we'll arrange it ourselves.

Back here in the real world today, I am cooking.  I love the new kitchen so much!  It's big and modern, stainless steel easy for me to reach and use appliances and quartz counter tops...just fantastic for cooks.

I decided to thaw some chicken pieces to bake for dinner tonight.  And then I remembered that I had a bag of stuffing cubes like this...

 I don't know if you Brits have these dried and seasoned bread cubes.  All I have ever seen in the UK is a small box of sort of stuffing crumbs.  I made stuffing there once, but it sure wasn't the same.  Here is how I made my stuffing this morning.  My grandmother made it this way.  My mother made it this way.  I make it this way.  My daughter has no clue.  Once I'm dead she'll have to figure it out.

Dana's Homemade Stuffing

melt 1 stick ( 1/4 lb) of unsalted butter

sautee' one finely diced onion and 2 finely diced stalks of celery, leaves and all, do not brown

add 1/2 lb sausage meat (not in casing) and cook until no longer pink but not browned

add salt and pepper to taste

add the bag of stuffing cubes and one beaten egg

 OK, it gets tricky here...add about 2 cups milk and a lot of poultry seasoning

Mix well, cover and put burner on low.

Check and stir often, adding more milk as necessary to get a beautiful soft fluffy stuffing with few discernable bread cubes.  Remember....fluffy, not heavy and sticky.  Do not overcook or it will get gluey. I probably cooked mine for about 45 mins. on low this morning, but my low is really low.   If stuffing a bird, cool stuffing or refrigerate and stuff bird right before cooking.  Pack loosely, it really fluffs up and expands.  For tonight, I will bake my stuffing in a casserole dish.  I took photos of mine as I cooked it...

Tomorrow, if there is any leftover stuffing tonight, I will introduce you to the wonderful world of fried stuffing pancakes for breakfast...yummy, yummy, yummy!

Fig Tree

Random Photo of the Day:  My beloved baby Fig Tree

I love figs.  I don't love them as much for their taste, although I eat them often, as I do for their appearance.  I think figs are beautiful, especially when cut, with their lovely green insides and rich deep purple outsides.  Their is nothing lovelier than some halved figs sitting next to some cuts of Brie or a pretty slab of creamy white cheddar and a slim baguette of fresh French bread.  I didn't eat figs until I was middle aged and had developed a palate that could discern, appreciate and savor fine food.  I discovered fresh figs, fine cheeses and to die for bread at the same time that I discovered France.  There has been no turning back.

 We live a somewhat Spartan furniture existence in this new home of ours.  All of our furniture is still at the house on the other coast.  We bought some essentials for here...a kitchen table and six chairs, a new bed for us, a large sectional sofa for the great room and Stacie brought her beds and personal belongings.  We used the dishes, pots and pans and cutlery from the RV.  We had some towels from the RV and that's about it. 

 It was all very distressing.  I was distracted from my interior distress however by all the exterior work that needed to be done with the yard, the flower beds and the pool.  The only way that I know how to accomplish things is to just start by putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along...so I did.  It was hot as Hades and the work never ending.  I found salvation and happiness one Sunday morning at the local flea market.  I stopped by a stall selling plants.  It was run by a nice Mexican man.  I perused.  He asked what I was looking for and I replied, "Oh, something to soothe my soul."  He said, "What you like?"  I said, "I'd love a fig tree.  Do you have one?  Alas, he did not, but he said if I came back the next Sunday, he'd have a fig tree for me.  I did and he did, but it was so small.  I looked askance at it and the man quickly said, "Senora, look, she have babies already" and pointed out the tiny green nubs appearing on the foot tall tree.  I paid four dollars for my fig tree and brought it home.  I planted it and mulched it and bought a pretty little fence for it to protect it from the lawn man and his speed demon riding mower.  I weed it and water it and speak to it a lot.  The nubs grow.  I dream of recipes to make featuring figs.

How about this warm sandwich? 

Or any of these?

I've completed the main front flower bed, buying many new plants and shrubs.  The plants and flowers and trees make a house a home.  I feel better now, more settled.  I am slowly making this new place our home.  My astrological sign is Cancer, the crab.  I have read that Cancers are home bodies, they carry their shell on their back, thus making any place they go their home.  For me, I think this is true...

An Evening With the Brits

Random Photo of the Day: Sun Over Santa Rosa Beach, Florida

Paul Revere's Ride

by

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

 He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Every American child learns this famous poem by Longfellow.  It is part of our elementary school cultural history experience.  Click here to read the poem in it's entirety.  I won a prize for memorizing the poem when I was eight years old.

In spite of all that, I now sleep with the enemy...literally.  I must say, I adore the Brits.  I really do.  And, not just my own through marriage Brits, but pretty much all Brits.  I love their quirky humor, their funny accents, their clunky Clarks shoes, many of which rival Birkenstock's for their lack of femininity,their funny hats at weddings and I especially love their cream teas and even their lowly sausages (awwww...this made me sad for my piggles).  I love that Brits know how to have fun.  On our transatlantic cruise last year half of the passengers were Brits returning home from the states.  Those Brits knew how to pass the time...Trivia slams (very competitive), line dancing, Karaoke competitions, costume contest, poolside tom foolery...you name it, the Brits did it and with gay abandon and many Gin and Tonics.  It's Americans that are stuffy, not real life Brits.  Trust me on this one.

About ten days ago John was watching TV (telly in Britspeak) and shouted for me to run across the house and down the stairs to see something on the screen.  It was an announcement for the tenth anniversary dinner of the Sarasota British Club.  Hoping to meet some new folks, we immediately paid our dues and joined.  We further paid for tickets to the anniversary dinner held this past Saturday.

 Two days after joining, John attended a monthly tea for members.  I was unable to attend.  He said there were about fifty in attendance, only one of whom he could remember, a woman who had also worked at the British Embassy in Washington, but before John arrived at the embassy.  He could not remember her name or anything else about her or if she had a husband there and had no clue how old she might be or the color of her hair.  I finally gave up asking questions about her.

We drove down to the venue where the dinnerwas to be held and entered the clubhouse as strangers in a strange land.  We were warmly greeted and there were name tags all made out and waiting for us.  It's no wonder the Brits were so good at colonizing foreign lands...they are very well organized. 

 There were no assigned tables so we mingled a bit and then found two open seats at a table occupied by three other couples.  Introductions were made all around.  We had wine and beer and soon salads arrived.  As we nibbled, a barbershop quartet ambled to the front and were announced.  I'm not being age biased (I'm old too), but these guys were so old they had to sit to sing.  I've never seen that before.  The audio equipment was poor and their ability to project non-existent.  Everyone started conversing in whispers because they really couldn't hear the quartet.  The good part was that I don't think the singers had a clue that no one was paying attention because they couldn't hear.  The  audience clapped politely  every time they noticed that the singers' lips had stopped moving.

After the quartet was mercifully escorted off the stage, we had our main course.  There was a break before dessert.  An elderly lady at our table began talking about how she had met a lovely new member at the tea and that he had also worked at the embassy in Washington after her tenure there.  She hoped to see him again this evening.  John-whose-hearing-is-fine-everyone else-mumbles was seated across from her and heard not a word of course.  The lady said she was a bit forgetful these days and she hoped the lovely man would recognize her and stop by to say hello at some time during the evening.  Rather than screaming, I just kicked John and re-introduced them.  He had no clue that she was the lady from the tea three days earlier.  Each smiled brightly at the other and I head for the Ladies.  It is at times like this that I regret giving up cigarettes.

Over dessert we watched an incredibly inept magician.  Then some club members performed a skit which was greeted with gales of laughter.  I didn't get it.  You must have had to be born a Brit or something.

All in all it was a good evening and we met some nice people.  I am a wee bit apprehensive about being around this group for fireworks and bond fire on Guy Fawkes Night....