365 True Things: 325/Bonding

This evening I took Chinese over to Grant's place, since he's been down and out with a bad back and I figured we were overdue for dinner together. We sat in the kitchen talking and eating, while Jeopardy, then Wheel of Fortune played on the big TV. I find it difficult to wrest my attention from a TV. I got a few of the answers right on both shows. But mostly, we managed to catch up.

My friend Annie and her husband, Digger, have a little ritual of watching Jeopardy together. I imagine them yelling their answers (i.e., questions) at the screen and being delighted—high-fiving? fist bumping?—when they get them right. But maybe they just screech in victory.

My friend Wendy and her husband, Kevin, play some backgammon before bed. For money (a buck or a quarter, I forget). Wendy wins more often than not and is growing quite wealthy.

My friend Kathi and her partner, Bob, like to cozy up on their bed and watch movies: that's how they wind down from a busy day and enjoy some together time.

My sister- and brother-in-law Patty and Wayne go for an early-morning walk with their dog, Greta. Daily. It's a routine for all three of them.

I love these little bonding rituals that people have. Something they count on to bring them together.

David and I don't have any real rituals. The one thing we do more or less regularly is go for an afternoon walk with Milo. It's an expectation, and a treat, if one or the other of us isn't otherwise occupied. The longer the walk, the better. (And it's becoming easier as the days grow longer.)

David caputuring an Ingress portal;
Milo lolling his tongue:
"Great hike, Mom!"

Tied in with a walk is, very often, some geocaching or Ingressing. It helps give us a goal. It's fun. We both enjoy the puzzle and the hunt. I consider geocaching, especially, a bonding activity.

We also very often spend part of the evening watching a movie or TV series via Netflix or Amazon Prime. It's a nice way to kick back and unwind together. Milo likes it too.

Grant stylin' in his 80s tights

There are also things that we enjoy doing together but that I've never wanted to call "our" activity. Like rock climbing: when I was doing it (which I don't seem to be anymore), I enjoyed going out with friends—along with, sometimes, David, but also, sometimes, not David. For some reason (that I should probably examine), I didn't want to think of it as a bonding activity, but rather as something we did together now and then, either on our own or with others. And had a good time every time.

By the same token, David enjoys contra dancing—and I don't. I'm glad that he goes and comes home rejuvenated, and although he says he'd like it if I came (I tried once: it was not a success), I'm just not eager. It will never be one of those bonding activities for us, I'm afraid. Though yeah, I may give it another try. It wouldn't hurt me. Can an old dog learn new tricks?

I keep trying to institute a "ritual" of going out for Friday breakfast to do some household planning, but that's never found traction. Maybe it'll happen when David retires. Or not.

Maybe, though, when David retires we will enjoy discovering, or implementing, all sorts of other new rituals. I kind of like that idea, actually. I think rituals are important. I could use a few more. (But contra dance? Probably not.)

365 True Things: 324/Food

We've decided to give a modified Whole 30 diet another try. One impetus: pine pollen. As in, allergies. One point of the diet is to stop eating things like dairy and gluten that some people, anyway, are sensitive to. It's a way of stressing your body as little as possible, giving it a better chance to deal with other allergens that simply can't be avoided.

Another reason, for me anyway, is that it's very easy for me to get lazy about food and gravitate toward . . . bread and cheese. And I'd like to have a better-rounded diet.

Luna was helping

So, tonight I spent a little while looking at recipes. I settled on chicken adobo (Thursday) and braised lamb shanks (Saturday) —yes, I like meat; I don't know how you vegetarians, or even more so, vegans, do it—plus veggies and rice or polenta. There will be leftovers.

One recipe I made the other week was so delicious we ended up with virtually no leftovers. There were three of us, granted—but it was supposed to serve six. I won't be making it anytime soon because it relies on a whole mess of cheese (but no meat). But as soon as David says cheese is back on the table? I will definitely make it. Here's the recipe.

Polenta with Fontina and Roasted Vegetables

3 Tb olive oil
1 small eggplant, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
2 small zucchini, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
2 small yellow summer squash, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
1/2 red onion, cut into 3/4-inch pieces
1 orange bell pepper, seeded and cut into 3/4-inch pieces
1 cup stone-ground polenta
2 Tb unsalted butter
1 cup (4 oz.) grated Parmesan cheese
2 cups (8 oz.) shredded fontina cheese

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Oil and rimmed baking sheet and an 8-inch baking dish.

In a large bowl, combine the eggplant, zucchini, squash, red onion, and bell pepper. Drizzle with the 3 Tb oil, season with salt and pepper, and toss to combine. Arrange in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Roast, tossing once, until the vegetables are caramelized, 20–25 minutes. Set aside. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees.

Meanwhile, in a heavy saucepan, bring 4 cups salted water to a boil over medium heat. Stirring constantly, very slowly add the polenta. Cook, stirring constantly, until polenta begins to thicken, about 5 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and continue to cook the polenta, stirring frequently, until the polenta is soft, about 25 minutes. Add the butter, Parmesan, and fontina and stir until the cheeses melt. Pour the polenta into the prepared baking dish and smooth the top.

Bake just until the polenta begins to set, about 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and top evenly with the roasted vegetables. Continue to bake unto the vegetables are heated through, about 15 minutes. Serve directly from the dish.

[They say in fall or winter you might try it with butternut squash, mushrooms, and Gorgonzola. That also sounds yummy.]

365 True Things: 323/Hobbies

I have been slaving away on my last editing job. I hope to finish it off tomorrow.

Which will leave me wondering what's next.

Not really: I've got so many interests and options, it's ridiculous. The most pressing being, writing (and researching what to write and where to submit). And reading. And gardening. And organizing the garage/storage space or cleaning out my closet. And cooking scrumptious meals. And going for long walks. And getting on my bike, or working out with those darn dumbbells. And spending more time with Norwegian (or German or Italian or French). And doing book arts, and maybe painting; cataloging and printing photos. I'd also like to mix in some new things. Like, taking rowing lessons in Santa Cruz or archery instruction in Salinas.

I am obviously not at a loss for things to do. But the problem is, I'm not very good at managing my time (or myself).

I've never thought of myself as much of one for hobbies, and I don't think of the above activities as such. Rather, they're a big part of who I am.

And yet, hobby:

c. 1400, hobi, "small, active horse," short for hobyn (mid-14c.; late 13c. in Anglo-Latin), probably originally a proper name for a horse (compare dobbin), a diminutive of Robert or Robin. Old French hobi, hobin, once considered possible sources, now are held to be borrowings from English.

The modern sense of "a favorite pursuit, object, or topic" is from 1816, a shortening of hobbyhorse (q.v.) in this sense, which is attested from 1670s. Earlier it meant "a wooden or wickerwork figure of a horse," as a child's toy or a costume in the morris dance, the connecting notion being "activity that doesn't go anywhere." Hobby as a shortening of hobbyhorse also was used in the "morris horse" sense (1760) and the "child's toy horse" sense (1680s).

A pastime; something done for pleasure.

Okay: "something done for pleasure." Everything except (and, okay, including) writing fits into that category. But if I were going to start a (new) hobby, maybe it should be learning how to manage my time, my interests, and myself. Collecting, studying, and implementing strategies. Paying attention.

Much easier to curate than a stamp or china collection, and it won't need dusting.

365 True Things: 322/Love

It's Valentine's Day, a holiday that I don't celebrate per se—no flowers, no cards, no nothing like that. But I spent a very nice day with a few of my loves: my husband, David, always and forever my number one Valentine; my goofy dog; my good friend Nina, who I'm delighted is back in the neighborhood; the cats, yes, even them.

Out on a walk this afternoon, we ran into a couple of friends, Thelma and Charlie, who I think of as good friends, though we don't see them all that much, at least not socially. (Thelma is my more-or-less weekly Norwegian-torture fellow sufferer/plodder/striver. They both do contradance with David—in fact, they introduced him to the pastime—and have sung with him in his chorus, though now they've moved on to a different one.) We mentioned Valentine's Day and all confessed that we don't pay it much mind. But we sure have clocked a few of them, and that must count for something.

This morning, we went to "church" for the first time since I was, oh, eight? I put the word in quotes because this church is nondenominational—it's called the Center for Spiritual Awakening—and for me, church is Christian. They put on a special program for the day featuring corny love songs (performed by Tony Bennett and Sheryl Crow and Andrea Boccelli via video, so it sure could have been cornier), some jokes, and a long talk about the Lord Rama—the point of which I never quite gleaned.

But one thing that was said, which David commented on and on which I concur, was how nice it was to be reminded that God ("God," I would say—with quotes: I'm not a believer, but I do believe there's magic in the universe, so maybe that's my version of "God") resides in all our hearts.

And also: maybe it's enough to think of contentment as a worthy goal in this life.

Just that: contentment. A sort of self-love, you might say. A recognition of (hopefully) a calm, easy, joyous place in our hearts that, even if we don't experience it all the time, we can settle down into frequently enough and just be.

So: there's my wish to you. Contentment. And comfort. And compassion as well, for ourselves and others. Because really, there's plenty of love to go 'round.

365 True Things: 321/Light (Shadows)

Today on a walk we encountered an abandoned bike with one training wheel, in the middle of the road. The road doesn't host car traffic, so the bike was safe. But it was eerie. Who had left it there? (It wasn't there yesterday.) And why? And why only the one training wheel?

I took a picture, of course, enjoying the long shadow the little bike cast and the saturated hues. That got me thinking about light and shadows—the long shadows of winter especially. And I thought today I'd do an "easy" post of photos I've taken that feature beautiful shadow play.

Enjoy.

At home: euphorbia

Olvera Street, downtown LA

Grimsbu, Norway

Monterey

Hami, China

David's great-grandmother's rocking chair

Me at work

SFMoMA

Laguna Seca racetrack

My friend Nina's Aunt Nina's house

Boronda bridge over Carmel River

Garland Park, on the way to Garzas Canyon

Eucalyptus Road (same road as forlorn bicycle)

Joshua Tree

Folldal, Norway

365 True Things: 320/Windows

Sometimes I can be ridiculously slow about making improvements. But today, I am happy to say, my studio/office and upstairs sleeping room were hugely improved, to the tune of new French shades!

This, mind you, only three years since we built the house.

See? Slow.

(When we first moved back in, the need for window coverings in the bedroom became immediately apparent, since there was nothing to keep people walking in the street from peering up at us as we lounged in bed, so I did at least take care of that immediately. I'm not hopeless.)

Back in November, I wrote about reclaiming my creative space. Once I started working here in earnest, it became clear that I needed something for the windows: especially in the winter months, the sun can be a big problem as it stays low in the sky and outside my south-facing windows all day long.

Not that I'm complaining about sunshine. Just, sometimes I can't make out what's on the computer screen what with the glare.

A tacked-up towel helped in the afternoons. I found something else to do between 8 and 9 in the morning.

But now I am sitting in my computer room with the shades cozily drawn—beautiful patterned red-orange/creamy yellow fabric on the front windows, and plain red-orange on the side windows. Ready for tomorrow and a glareless computer screen! Upstairs, which is violated nightly by an annoyingly bright streetlight up the hill, the shades are an elegant gray.

The sun—and that damn streetlight—will bedevil me no longer!

Next and last project: the living room windows. Maybe in 2022—tenth anniversary of the new house? There's absolutely no rush there . . .

365 True Things: 319/Bagels

I have four favorite ways of eating bagels. First: toasted and with only sweet butter. Second: fresh (not toasted) with cream cheese, smoked salmon, thin-sliced red onions, a sprinkling of capers, and a squeeze of lemon—you know, the classic way. Third: as a sandwich called a California Nosh from our local bagel place—basically a tuna sandwich, but on a poppy seed bagel (also not toasted) and with spicy mustard. Fourth: toasted with cream cheese and apricot jam. The last style is what I had for breakfast this morning.

And that's my true thing for this Thursday.