Cooking the NYTimes and Other Assorted Retirement Activities

  As regular readers are well aware, issues which outrage/annoy me are not in short supply.  One on the list is the pharmaceutical industries's regular onslaught on our concerns regarding our health with a never ending stream of ads imploring us to "Ask your doctor about _______ (insert difficult if not impossible to pronounce drug here)."  In fact, how many times have you asked yourself following the commercial, "What is that drug prescribed for?  What does A1C or HR positive HER-2 negative mean?" because the ads throw these terms and others out like vendors tossing bags of peanuts at sporting events.  An insult, in my opinion, to those for whom A1C or HR positive HER-2 negative is part of their daily lives. So I decided to take the pharmaceutical companies up on their offer. My yearly physical was scheduled for this past Monday.  On Sunday evening, while watching the Golden Globes, I made note on my phone of the various commercials offering subject matter...

Chalking the Door The year encloses initials for the three wise men: Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar   A number of years ago, while visiting Germany, my exchange daughter and I were walking around her neighborhood in the lovely town of Sehlem.  My attention was caught by markings over nearly every front door.  Claudia explained the tradition (not in these very words, but close).   The Christian custom of chalking the door has a biblical precedent as the Israelites in the Old Testament marked their doors in order to be saved from death; likewise,  the Epiphanytide practice serves to protect Christian homes from evil spirits until the next Epiphany Day, at which time the custom is repeated.  In Sehlem, the tradition was carried out by the children, who went door to door to mark the houses.  The next Epiphany, I chalked my front door and continued the tradition through 2023.  I always thought of Olivia and Eleanor, my German granddaughters, as I ...

  The Christmas letter has been put to bed, off to the printer. and writing it has engendered all sorts of decidedly un-Christmasy emotions. Christmas letters evoke plenty of different feelings from those who write and receive them.  They are the subject of parody since the basic template tends to skew toward a yearly recitation of the author and his/her (and let's be honest here, it's predominantly her) family's highlights, bypassing any lowlights.  Not that families don't have them but the archetype just doesn't support same.  It's much easier to chronicle how wonderful 2023 was as opposed to even mentioning those events south of the life's border.   I always attempt to be at least somewhat self-deprecating in our Christmas letter, choosing to include what might not be considered typical photos, avoiding a highlight reel of the children's and grandchildren's greatest accomplishments.  And yet I am excruciatingly aware my letter is stuffed to the gi...

  I was looking for a previous post the other day, and noted that I hadn't written anything in a while. Not for lack of potential topics, mind you.  How about our friend, Supreme Court Clarence Thomas on the grift?  The Republican Freedom (term used loosely) Caucus holding the United States of America hostage by ousting Kevin McCarthy (Karma's a bitch, Kev), leaving the Speakership empty for three weeks only to finally elect Mike Johnson, whose only qualifications appear to be he appeased the hostage takers with his previous work as an election denier, abortion foe, vocal opponent of gay marriage albeit a nice guy?  Hamas attacking Gaza?  And lest we forget, how about the Donald, four time indicted felon, whose children are being called to testify in his NY fraud case?   What a Dad, huh? No, I'd left those topics to speak for themselves as I spent the bulk of the fall enjoying the unseasonably and climate change influenced weather, spending time with t...

  In a summer of adjustments, I've encountered another. I have engaged in an end of the day ritual for many years.  At whatever time I'm basically calling it quits, meaning I'll be hanging out at home for the remainder of the day, I shut it down.  Take off the bra.  Take out the teeth (partial).  Take out the ears (hearing aids).  Pop out the contacts. Which means, of course, I am then lacking support; gumming my food; asking, "What?" and turning up the volume on electronic devices; blurring my view of the world. It's the last that is coming into particular focus at the present time. On August 31, I had the first of two cataract surgeries and by late that evening, my distance vision was almost frighteningly clear.  So much so that at the post op appointment, I tested 20/20.  It seems as if I'll continue to use cheaters to read--no biggie. The biggie is being able to see the world around me in sharp, distinct color and shapes.  No more br...

Au Revoir!  La vacances est finis I'm completing the Ah, Bonjour blog from Charles de Gaulle airport, where the wi-fi connection is decidedly much improved from the cruise ship, and that's a wonder in itself that free, albeit spotty, wi-fi is available as you tool down the Seine River. Yesterday the ship docked in LePecq, a suburb of Paris, where we shuffled off to Napoleon and Josephine's home...wait, correction, ONE of their homes, called Malmaison.  The tour guide indicated that the house was sacked when the Prussians came through, so restoration of the property has required going to other Napoleon and Josephine homes to attempt to recreate as closely as possible to what Malmaison might have looked like when they lived there.  It was opulent, nowhere on the scale of Versailles, naturally, but it reminds one of the huge wealth gap between the ruling classes and those whose lifestyle was worker bee.  And also a reminder of why there was a French revolution. A portra...

Trop Amusant The ship/boat sailed from its dock in Rouen overnight to the very small (pop. 500) village of Les Andelys, not to be confused with Grand Andelys up the road a piece.  It's a very charming little place, not spared Allied bombing during the post D-Day assault.  That's a common theme throughout Normandy, how the carpet bombings (remember pinpoint bombing/GPS was not available) decimated so many of the little towns from the coast on the way inland.  Very prevalent in the minds of the French, not even a blip on our radar screens, eh? Seen on the Seine as we sailed This morning as we sailed, the chef, the quite remarkable Ali, demonstrated how to make Tarte de Citron aka lemon tarte with a meringue topping.  Delicioux. If we're in France, in any city, there must be a church (eglise) or cathedral (cathedral) or two or more in any town.  Today's was the Church of Saint Saveur, one of the few churches built during the 14th century not named after Our Lady, a...