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Entries by Dana (254)

Tuesday
Nov102009

Big Doings' at Chez Nous

 

Today is THE big day at Chez Nous.  As I am typing this at 10:59AM EST in the USA, our SIL Janet and our friend, Shirley, are sitting in a Virgin Airways plane winging their way from London to Miami.  We will greet them at Terminal E at six o'clock this evening.  I am really excited to have two weeks of girl time with these two wonderful women.

In honor of our visitors "our girls" were groomed yesterday.  Yes, before you begin to sputter, "But, but, you said Rico was a boy dog.  What's the deal?"  Well, technically that is correct.  Anatomically, it's somewhat correct as he has some boy parts.  But, we've always had girl dogs.  It was always Razz and Taffy, The Girls.  Everyone referred to them that way.  When we got Rico, John constantly referred to him as a her.  He is rather sissified, I will admit.  He has no idea how to raise a leg to wee.  I have finally decided that in the name of expediency, I will follow John's lead.  We refer to them as "The Girls" as in, "Have you let The Girls out recently?"  Rico hasn't a clue as to what he is so it works for us.  Yesterday The Girls were groomed at the very best dog groomer in the world, Scott at Groomingdales.  The photo is of Scott and his lovely wife Diana holding our Girls.  All four of them are just beautiful, aren't they? One...Two...Three...Everyone say "Awwwwwwwwww, how cute!"

This morning I have made a Quiche Lorraine and a Salade Carrottes Rapees.  It's difficult to know if they will be hungry or not.  On most transatlantic flights one spends eight or nine hours doing nothing but eating and napping.  I know that John and I will want dinner so the quiche and salad is a great light dinner with fabulous leftovers potential for tomorrow's lunch.

OK...off to do some more shine and polish around here...

 

Monday
Nov092009

Orts

“A great marriage is not when the ‘perfect couple’ comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.”
―Dave Meurer

With regard to the above quote...no more true words have  ever been written.  John and I are, in so many ways, polar opposites.  If we were policemen, we'd be perfect for all the "good cop, bad cop" interrogation scenes in televison crime dramas.  John of course would be the good cop.  Everyone loves John.  He's a totally non-controversial, "Hail fellow well met", sweet and gentle kind of guy.  Me, not so much.  I'm more intense, more tightly wound. Of course, John doesn't deal with any unpleasantness, such as annoying sales phone calls or bills with errors on them or big huge vine thingies the neighbors planted up against the side of our shared wall that are now threatening to pull down our new expensive copper eaves troughs.  That's the laundry list of stuff with which to deal that causes one to become tightly wound and a wee bit snippy.  But hey...it works for us.  Napolean had his Josephine, Nicholas his Alexandra, Anthony his Cleopatra and John his Dana. 

 Tomorrow is a huge exciting day for us.  Our Sister-in-Law, Janet and our friend Shirley arrive at the Miami Airport at around five PM.  They will be here for two weeks of "girl time."  We have outlet shopping planned in Orlando, a visit to Epcot and other adventures.  John has been informed that his place in all of this is to stay home and mind the dogs.

Speaking of dogs...I think ours are smart because they have a four word vocabulary consisting of "pee pee", "walkies" "beddybye" and "cookie."  If you have a dog you believe is smart...well, maybe not so much.  Look at this pooch...

 

 

 

Saturday
Nov072009

She Surfaces

"Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering.

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in

That's how the light gets in..."

"Anthem" Leonard Cohen

 

I could offer a lot of excuses for neglecting this little blog of mine.  I probably will.  I haven't written in over a week.  I am not a serious blogger.  I have no agenda.  I don't have a main focus.  Writers are told to write about what they know best, to write about what interests them, to write about their passions.  When I was young, I mistakenly believed that in order to write well and to live well, I needed to look outside myself.  I thought that my world was small.  I became very busy becoming educated, creating a career, becoming someone.  I realize now that I was always someone.  I was me.  I lived and existed deep inside myself.  Now, I have come full circle.  I have basically "been there and done that" and I have more life behind me than left ahead of me. I know now that to write well and to live well, all that I need to do is to look inside myself. I blog here to write about my life.   My life is about my family, my friends, my home,  reading and cooking and travel.  Those are the things I know well.  Those are my passions.  Each of those things resides in a special place inside of me, some cerebral storage area.  Maybe that is what a soul is, a depository of memories and desires.

All that has led me to this now.  Sometimes I don't write because I worry that I don't have anything to share but drivel and mundanity.  I am revising that thought.  I think everyone's life is interesting.   No two are alike.  I'm not writing here to create the next great American novel.  I am writing here to share myself with my friends and family, to reach out and stay connected in the most elemental and basic way, saying "This is what I think, this is what I believe, these are the people (and that includes dogs) that I love and care about, this is my home, my garden, my kitchen, my life.  Join me.  Share with me.  Be a part of my life."

I'm not going to worry about what I write anymore or if I please anyone.  I am just going to free write.  I am going to give you Me, warts and all.  It's all I've got to offer.  I do appreciate it if you leave me a note saying you were here.  There is nothing to join.  I pay for this space.  No one will send you email spam.  Just leave your first name and where you are from.  I'm curious to know.  Feel free to leave comments if you wish.

Sunday
Oct252009

Pardon Me While I Puke

I don't think I've ever said the word "puke" aloud.  My mother would have slapped me.  I never allowed my children to say the word, "puke.".  "Vomit" is pretty easy to say or spell, even for a five year old.   I will now probably horrify my children.  Maybe not.  Maybe they'd be impressed....

The gist of the following Op-Ed article from today's NY Times made me want to PUKE.  Especially the very last quote...

October 25, 2009
Op-Ed Columnist

The Nuns’ Story

WASHINGTON

Once, in the first grade, I was late for class. I started crying in the schoolyard, terrified to go in and face the formidable Sister Hiltruda.

Father Montgomery, who looked like a handsome young priest out of a 1930s movie, found me cowering and took my hand, leading me into the classroom.

Sister Hiltruda looked ready to pop, but she couldn’t say a word to me, then or ever. There was no more unassailable patriarchy than the Catholic Church.

Nuns were second-class citizens then and — 40 years after feminism utterly changed America — they still are. The matter of women as priests is closed, a forbidden topic.

In 2004, the cardinal who would become Pope Benedict XVI wrote a Vatican document urging women to be submissive partners, resisting any adversarial roles with men and cultivating “feminine values” like “listening, welcoming, humility, faithfulness, praise and waiting.”

Nuns need to be even more sepia-toned for the über-conservative pope, who was christened “God’s Rottweiler” for his enforcement of orthodoxy. Once a conscripted member of the Hitler Youth, Benedict pardoned a schismatic bishop who claimed that there was no Nazi gas chamber. He also argued on a trip to Africa that distributing condoms could make the AIDS crisis worse.

The Vatican is now conducting two inquisitions into the “quality of life” of American nuns, a dwindling group with an average age of about 70, hoping to herd them back into their old-fashioned habits and convents and curb any speck of modernity or independence.

Nuns who took Vatican II as a mandate for reimagining their mission “started to look uppity to an awful lot of bishops and priests and, of course, the Vatican,” said Kenneth Briggs, the author of “Double Crossed: Uncovering the Catholic Church’s Betrayal of American Nuns.”

The church enabled rampant pedophilia, but nuns who live in apartments and do social work with ailing gays? Sacrilegious! The pope can wear Serengeti sunglasses and expensive red loafers, but shorter hems for nuns? Disgraceful!

“It’s a tragedy because nuns are the jewels of the system,” said Bob Bennett, the Washington lawyer who led the church’s lay inquiry into the pedophilia scandal. “I was of the view that if they had been listened to more, some of this stuff wouldn’t have happened.”

As the Vatican is trying to wall off the “brides of Christ,” Cask of Amontillado style, it is welcoming extreme-right Anglicans into the Catholic Church — the ones who are disgruntled about female priests and openly gay bishops. Il Papa is even willing to bend Rome’s most doggedly held dogma, against married priests — as long as they’re clutching the Anglicans’ Book of Common Prayer.

“Most of the Anglicans who want to move over to the Catholic Church under this deal are people who have scorned women as priests and have scorned gay people,” Briggs said. “The Vatican doesn’t care that these people are motivated by disdain.”

The nuns are pushing back a bit, but it’s hard, since the church has decreed that women can’t be adversarial to men. A nun writing in Commonweal as “Sister X” protests, “American women religious are being bullied.”

She recalls that Bishop Leonard Blair of Toledo, who heads one of the investigations, moved a meeting at the University of Notre Dame off campus to protest a performance of “The Vagina Monologues.” “It is the rare bishop,” Sister X writes, “who has any real understanding of the lives women actually lead.”

The church can be flexible, except with women. Laurie Goodstein, the Times’s religion writer, reported this month on an Illinois woman who had a son with a Franciscan priest. The church agreed to child support but was stingy with money for college and for doctors, once the son got terminal cancer. The priest had never been disciplined and was a pastor in Wisconsin — until he hit the front page. Even then, “Father” Willenborg was suspended only because the woman said that he had pressed her to have an abortion and that he had also had a sexual relationship with a teenager. (Maybe the church shouldn’t be so obdurate on condoms.)

When then-Cardinal Ratzinger was “The Enforcer” in Rome, he investigated and disciplined two American nuns. One, Jeannine Gramick, then of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, founded a ministry to reconcile gays with the church, which regards homosexual desires as “disordered.” The other, Mary Agnes Mansour of the Sisters of Mercy, headed the Michigan Department of Social Services, which, among other things, paid for abortions for poor women.

Marcy Kaptur, a Democratic congresswoman from Toledo and one of Bishop Blair’s flock, got a resolution passed commending nuns for their humble service and sacrifice. “The Vatican’s in another country,” she said. “Maybe people do things differently there. Perhaps the Holy Spirit will intervene.”

 

Friday
Oct232009

Peppermint Bark

Today's mulling of why the world is the way it is was engendered not by visions of sugar plums dancing around in my head, but by a quick jaunt around  my local COSTCO.  COSTCO has flown by Halloween, bypassed Thanksgiving and is in the orgasmic throes of hawking everything commercial however loosely connected to Christmas.  I must tell you that we do not do Christmas.  Husband and I are Athiests.  We're a lot of other things, too, but we are really loathe to add Hypocrite to the list.  I used to love decorating for Christmas.  I still like seeing Christmas lights.  But in all honesty, for me, it was never about "the reason for the season."  I respect my Christian friends.  I respect my Jewish friends.  I respect people of all faiths.  I just don't happen to be one of them.  To me, the ten commandments are common sense rules for a just society, so I try to follow them.  I don't need to endorse the whole burning bush thing to do so.  The commercialism of Christmas really really bothers me.  If I were a Christian, I'd be in the remember the reason for the season camp.

So, now COSTCO is selling all things Christmas.  I look, I am interested to see what's out there for sale.  We are presently wrestling with what the possible consequences might be of rather than buying the grandchildren Christmas gifts (and by the way, none of their parents has set foot in a church for decades) making a donation in each child's name to Operation Smile and trying to explain to them why we are doing so, not the religiousness of it or lack thereof, but the idea of doing for others, not necessarily a religious thing, just a human thing.  Will the grandchildren still love us as much as their other grandparents?  Can we continue to give them gifts for Christmas and remain true to ourselves?  I feel like a hypocrite every year.  But, they're children.  To them it's all about Santa.  It's all so very complex.

Anyway, I had no intention when starting this entry to go off in the direction I did.  But here, "You pays your money and you takes your chances."  What I intended to write about was Peppermint Bark.  It's hard to do that and stay focused when it's 92 degrees outside.  When I worked at Pottery Barn, I received a very large employee discount.  That discount also applied at Williams Sonoma, Pottery Barn's parent company.  Every holiday season, I'd gorge myself on Williams Sonoma Peppermint Bark.  It costs twenty six dollars for one pound in a somewhat ordinary tin.  I've got at least six tins hanging around here.  After the first tin, they sort of lose their appeal.

At COSTCO while flitting through the bakery department dreaming about by buying a big tub of Two Bite Brownies, I spotted an equally large tub of Kirkland brand Peppermint Bark!  It was a two pound tub for $9.99.  Twice as much as Williams Sonoma for less than half price.  I have never noticed it at COSTCO before.  It was every bit as good as the WS peppermint bark.  The only difference that I really notice is that the COSTCO peppermint pieces are slightly smaller.  If you want to save yourself some money and you like Peppermint Bark, head to your local  COSTCO.