Final Blog Post for the Year

This is the last post of the year. Not sure what I want to write about, but felt I should write something.

It's 60 degrees outside but supposed to start getting colder as the rain arrives later today. Tomorrow is supposed to have some icy roads. Lisa has to work.

Lincoln is S...L...O...W...L...Y getting a little more comfortable around the house; but still no physical contact. But I am confident he'll come around.

I have my annual bladder checkup for my cancer, or more specifically, check to see if I am still clear. It's next Tuesday.

I can't wait for when I can get my COVID vaccine.

I've read 72 books this year according to GoodReads. And according to another spot on GoodReads, I've read 52. I don't know where the discrepancy lies, but don't have the motivation to find out right now.

We're having lobster tails, shrimp cocktail, and a crab ragoon appetizer. A small chocolate cake with white icing is for dessert.

Hot dogs and sauerkraut for New Year's Day.

I think I'll come up with a few goals - not resolutions - for the new year. When I'm done, I'll post them.

That's it for now. Happy New Year!

Update on "TMITH" (Pronounced Ti'mith)

 The Mouse in the House is still active. Here are pictures of some of his travels around our home.

Here it is trying to get out the front door, or maybe guarding it.

                                

Near the living room...

Trying to get into our bedroom...

"Cooking in the kitchen...

And finally, in the study next to his magazines...

And lastly, a pic of the mysterious "Gray" mouse

Christmas Eve

 For the longest time, I always thought of Christmas Eve as being strictly the evening and night of the 24th of December. I've slowly changed my mistaken view of one of my favorite days of the year. This is what I remember about it, but I am sure that my brother Jerry will have some slightly different memories. Probably both of us are right.

 

Growing up, I remember getting so worked up with excitement that often I'd get a fever and upset stomach. My younger brother would as well. We'd have to lie down for a while until a nap would make us feel better. Here we are at about 7 and 4 maybe?

When I was about 9 or so, and Jerry was 6, our Uncle Wayne, Mom's brother, began taking us to a movie that afternoon. He was 11 years younger than Mom, which made him more like an older brother to us. It helped a little.

But my favorite memories of Christmas Eve was the people, and obviously the cooking and food. Not that I did any. Mom was Italian on both sides of her parents, so you can imagine what it was like. We had a small house in the country; a living room and a kitchen adjoining it, with two small bedrooms and a bathroom. We usually ate in the kitchen; except for Christmas Eve. That's where the "Italian ladies" would work and set out the food on the table. The men would sit and eat in the living room.

Gram, Mom's mother,  would come out in the late morning - usually driven out by Wayne - and start to prepare the food. Pop would have already gone into town earlier and bought two of the fishes: smelt and bacula (cod for non-Italians). I know that the dinner was traditionally centered around seven fishes, but for the life of me, I can't remember if we had any other fish. I know we had pasta with meatballs and we had salami for sandwiches and just for eating. I can't remember what else we had, I just know there was a lot of it.

Gram was divorced so it was just her and Wayne who came out. But Gram had two sisters, both older I believe. Brunie, the oldest, was married to Dewey. They usually came. They had a son, Lou, who I think they visited on Christmas Day. Then there was Julia, married to Charlie. Their unmarried son, Leo, would come out with them. And oh, I forgot - our collie dog, Bambi, would be in the living room on the floor so everyone had to be careful walking around her. 

Here is a photo of Gram (standing at left), Julia (standing in back), and Brunie (sitting). This is a very early photo. Gram wasn't even married; her boyfriend at the time was standing between her and Julia. Standing on the right and behind Brunie is Dewey. Charlie is sitting. I don't know why they were arranged that way in the photo. Maybe no one was married yet??

Anyhow, back to my story about Christmas Eve. Charlie and Leo smoked cigars so it got pretty smokey in the living room even with the windows open. Pop didn't smoke cigars usually, but I think he may have had one sometime during the day. I know Wayne did. Leo was an expert trap shooter, so he and Pop got along very well. But then, everyone got along well together as I remember. Charlie worked in a glass factory just like Pop, just a different one. I can't remember what Dewey did.

I remember the smells of the cooked fish, the pasta sauce, and the cigar smoke. It was a great aroma. But I couldn't wait until everyone left so we could go to bed. For tomorrow Jerry and I would up at 6!

It has changed a lot now that I am older. But I still love the memories of when I was growing up. It was indeed a simpler time.

A Memory Question

 Memory is a strange thing. I just finished a book that I first read 30 years ago. I remember it quite differently. 

Then I would have recommended it to my JROTC students. For some reason, I did not. Now I would not have recommended it.

As far as war stories about Vietnam go, it was a very good read. It just bothers me that I remember it so differently. But then, the story is about one soldier and how he remembered events and changed them in his mind.

I wonder why I did.

A Change of Policy

I've decided that it is time for me to lift the prohibition on my blog about not talking about politics. Since no one reads my blog anyhow (!), it doesn't really matter. I'm also lifting my self-imposed ban on discussing religion and faith.

One area that I have been interested in is Germany between the world wars, Nazism, Hitler, and the Holocaust. Denying the Holocaust is coming up again in the news these days because of the similarity of the denying of the recent past presidential election. Though the two subjects are linked with common thought processes, some other elements can be compared.

David Irving, the author of bestselling books on Churchill, Hitler, Goering, Goebbels, and Rommel, sued Deborah Lipstadt in an England court in January of 2000 for libel. Irving was denying that cremations did not take place at Auschwitz; in essence, denying the Holocaust ever took place. The Holocaust on Trial is the story of that trial.

In another book, I will investigate the minds and actions of common Germans concerning the Holocaust as well. Hitler's Willing Executioners is a comprehensive examination of this. 

At some time I hope to compare the atmosphere and environment in Germany back then with today's landscape here in America.

In other news, The Mouse in the House continues to move. I have found him in the kitchen near the stove as well as next to our bedroom door. I have also discovered he has a gray twin as well, but haven't been able to capture a picture of him yet.

Our Own "Elf on the Shelf"

 We have our very own Elf on the Shelf thanks to Lincoln, our new cat. It seems he moves around one of his toys; specifically, a small stuffed mouse which he plays with in the middle of the night.

Sometimes he bats it under a bookcase and we have to recover it for him in the morning, but then the next morning he'll have it somewhere else.

I wonder where it will be on Christmas morning?

John Lennon

Today is December 8. Important for several reasons. It's the day after the Pearl Harbor attack in 1941. it's Safe Harbour Day which many politicians are happy about. It's two days after Hiroshima and one day before Nagasaki. And it's that day John Lennon was killed outside on the steps of his apartment in NYC 40 years ago. For me, this last is particularly significant.

Forty years, one week, and one day earlier, I was walking past the exact spot where he was shot and killed. I was in the Army stationed in Delaware but had taken that weekend to go run the NYC Marathon. I was teaching at the University of Delaware and one of my students has an older brother who worked in the city and lived in a small studio on the Upper West Side. I stayed with him that weekend.

I had finished the marathon the Sunday and was walking back to take a shower and pack to return home. I had an Amtrak ticket for that afternoon.  As I crossed a parallel street I noticed the Dakota, the famous apartment building that Lennon and other celebrities lived at. I thought of Lennon being there maybe at that exact time.

I remember walking - actually limping - past with one of those light foil-like blankets wrapped around me.

I still have that blanket.  

Lincoln

 Yesterday, we got a new cat. I told Lisa it would be her Christmas gift. She's been wanting another cat for some time. Ally had passed away a year ago September. 

Lisa made out an application with the local shelter and went down yesterday to look at the cats they had had available. Because of COVID, you have to make an appointment. Hers was at 3:00 pm. I told her it was her decision as to which one she chose. She said she would know once she got around them. Anyhow, before I say any more, let me introduce you to Lincoln!

He's three years old (born on July 2, 2017), a domestic short-hair. and only about 8 pounds! He actually is a smaller version of Smokey!! He came from a hoarder situation of 26 other cats and most probably one of the smallest, if not the smallest of them.

That clipped tip of the ear is not from a fight, but it's what many shelters do nowadays. If a cat would get away again for whatever reason, they would know that it has already been neutered or spayed, and wouldn't be a priority for re-capture. Sounds harsh maybe, and many people don't like the look of it. I told Lincoln to tell folks it was from a knife fight.

He is very shy right now, but has eaten and drank and used the kitty box which are all good things. Right now he is hiding somewhere resting. I've got my normal easy listening music on so he can get used to things around here.

When Lisa comes home she will get down on the floor and try to play with him. She has a way with cats. That was what drew her to him. When she first saw him, he was very shy. But when she went back into the room, he came up to her and rubbed her arms. She knew then. But it was difficult to choose.

Lincoln's name at the shelter was actually Link from the Legend of Zelda game. All of the cats received names from games. I went online and l read about Link and saw a picture of the character.

 I don't think he would want to be associated with that type of person. Better our 16th President of the United States, right?

BTW, here is a picture of Smokey. It's from my post of January 7, 2014, the day we lost him to cancer. But the picture was about 6-8 years earlier.

A Food Memory

 Last week's Thanksgiving feast reminded me of another time when I enjoyed good food. I was washing this cooking jacket when I remembered what good food we enjoyed there. And one particular time, we helped to cook the food.

When we were living in New Jersey, there were so many good places to eat. It was very difficult to choose from. One place we found was actually a restaurant in a hotel. The Hilton at Short Hills was located in an upscale part of central-eastern New Jersey west of Newark and east of Morristown. An upscale shopping mall was located nearby (named The Mall at Short Hills for some reason!) which we often would walk around but seldom buy at.

Back to the cooking jacket. After we had eaten there a few times, including anniversaries, we saw an announcement promoting a new project: a chance to cook your own meal and then have it served to you! At the time the cost was $150 per person. This may sound expensive, but once you add in the experience of preparing and cooking alongside real chefs for over three hours, the price sounded reasonable to us. (Some people go to casinos; some go to resort beaches - we went to good restaurants.) 

So we signed up and made reservations for a Saturday evening. When we got there we were first taken to an area that had clothes lockers and individual lockers. We were told to leave our dining clothes - jacket and ties for the men and similarly appropriate attire for women - there and we could take a shower before we sat for dinner. Working in a hot kitchen, the thought of a shower sounded like maybe a good thing later.

Next, we were taken upstairs to the kitchen. Surprisingly, it was not a huge room, but obviously, every bit of space was taken up by some useful workspace. We met the head chef and a few of his assistants. Then we were given our assignments. Lisa was first responsible for wiping the edging of the dinner and smaller plates with a cloth towel to ensure each shined without any fingerprints. Later, closer to dinner, she squirted little dollops of sauce on dessert plates around the dessert. I was given an equally important and responsible job. I was to tie up those little straight green beans in small bundles with long pieces of chives. These were called haricot verts. From what I remember, they were raw and would be thrown in boiling water just for a few minutes before taken out and plated.

I forgot to mention that both of us had a supervisor. I forget who my wife had, but I had a young man about thirty-two who was one of the sous chefs. He (I'll call him Jeff) had been working there for several years. His previous job was on Wall Street in Manhattan as a trader. He just decided one day to quit and do something he loved to do. And that was cooking as he told me. 

Our station was small and crowded and we worked essentially back-to-back. It was sort of like working in a small galley on a boat. I worked in front of a long flat table where I had everything before me. Jeff worked in front of a very hot stove that had both a flat grill and several burners, all of which most were going full blast during the afternoon I was there. I can see why they provided the opportunity to shower and change clothes before dinner. Speaking of changing clothes, I just remembered that we were provided tocques, the chef hats, as well. We kept them for a while but since there wasn't any real opportunity to wear them they sort of disappeared.

About 5:30 that afternoon we stopped doing our jobs and were given a short tour of the other areas in the kitchen. My favorite, of course, was the bakery area. I watched them make several desserts. My favorites were a Napolean and something chocolate called a piano, which looked like a small grand piano with keys and even a piano seat! I was told I could choose one for my dinner.

The final treat was a pouring of a small glass of a single malt whisky. I can't remember which one it was, but it didn't really matter since I loved - and still do - all single malts.

We were then finished with our cooking experience and returned to the shower/changing rooms.

Coming upstairs, we were now no longer cooks, but customers. We were shown to our table and given menus. We had been given a preview of the specials for the evening when we in the kitchen. As for the menu, it was not a stranger to us since we ate there before; though the menu did change somewhat with the seasons.

I'm not sure what we ate for dinner, but it was probably either a fillet, Chilean sea bass, or scallops. I usually had one of those when we went out. Lisa thinks she probably had lobster bisque soup and lamb. Those were her usual favorites.

But we do remember what we had for dessert of course. Lisa had a chocolate souffle. I had to make a choice so I went with the piano of course.

The final surprise of the evening was when they brought our desserts out, they brought out BOTH the Napolean and the chocolate piano for me, and an extra fork for Lisa!

Truly a memorable cooking and dining experience.

A New Way of Daily Reading

 I've been trying to come up with a more efficient way of reading my fiction than heretofore. I had been saving my fiction until the evening. That gave me the ability to read six nonfiction - two/day - in rotation during the day. But this meant that any lengthy fiction book would consume much of my evening reading. It came t head when I began to read Wilkie Collin's "A Woman in White", a tome of over 600 pages.

I have decided to do is this. I've reduced my day reading to five books; 3 nonfiction and two fiction. On Day 1 I will read NF Book#1 and F Book#1. On Day 2 I will read NF Book#2 and F Book#2. On Day 3 I will read NF Book#3 and return to F Book#1. On Day 4 I will read NF Book#1 and F Book#2. And so on.

Obviously, the key is not to get confused about the reading order. So after I have read for the day, I rearrange my daily currently reading bookstand that sits on my desk, with the books now showing what is to be read the next day on the righthand side of the stand - nearest the soldier standing guard over my treasures!

The advantage this will give me is that I can read a long fiction while still reading shorter ones. It does reduce my reading of nonfiction books, but I am going to attempt to replace that by reading one of nonfiction Easton Press or another living room book in the evenings when I read after dinner. 

A final part of this change to my current reading plan is whenever I get to between 50-100 pages from the end of any book, nonfiction or fiction, I will suspend that day's normal reading plan and concentrate on finishing that book. I've tried this a few times and find myself rewarded for the effort. What will determine when I make the "mad dash to the finish line" will be how difficult or how easy it was up to that point reading the book.

It all sounds likes a solid plan. We'll see how it works.