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Freshly Baked Bread

Yesterday, I made bread. White bread, to be precise.  I even followed the recipe, almost precisely, which is pretty good for me. I forgot to add the salt, but that's okay. We already finished one loaf. I thought about putting up the Christmas tree yesterday morning, but chose to bake bread and make carrot and leek soup for lunch instead. I had a yen for freshly baked white bread for the past two days.  And, since I wasn't going to find what I wanted in the local grocery stores or bakeries, I might as well knead one to fulfill my need. Yuk, yuk . I don't make bread much anymore. Not that I was ever a bread baker. I just like pounding the dough. Okay, the kneading. Knead, knead. Pound. Pound, Knead.  Easy pounding. Not like the first time I made bread many decades ago. Imagine me, a 20-year-old college girl living in a second-floor apartment in San Francisco's Richmond district. It's late in the evening. Because I'm either stressed or bored, or both, with

Rusted Running Feet

Plod, plod, plod. I jogged nonstop all the way around the block. Nearly one-quarter of a mile that first day. Yes, it was tough. On my lungs. On my knees. On my whole body. Lumber, lumber, lumber. The second day, I jogged, gasping, but nonstop, for half a mile. When I got home, I told the Husband that my jogging went from  plod, plod, plod to lumber, lumber lumber . The Husband asked, "How is plodding different from lumbering?" The sound is different. It is. Pad, pad, pad. My gait sounded like Molly the Cat's when she scoots across the kitchen floor in search of something mischievous to do. I went three-quarters of a mile that third day. I remembered to breath in through my nose and not my mouth. I tried not to think of the twinge in my right knee. The fourth morning, I laid in bed thinking which route around the neighborhood would make one mile. And I thought about whether I ought to run at all. Maybe I ought to pay attention to the twinge that was now t

Happy Thanksgiving!

Once Molly catches that turkey, I will start cooking. I am grateful for many things. . . the Husband, the Mama, and Molly the Cat. the friends in my life. the ability to live the life I choose. the earth, the sun, the wind, and the water. the unconditional love of God. Peace, joy, love, and happiness to you, Dear Readers. 

Don't Take My Picture!

Lately, I've been helping the Mama pick up the leaves in the backyard. Even when it's about to rain or when the wind is being blustery. Why? Because the Mama is out there. And, she'll stay out there until she is a) satisfied that she has picked up as many leaves as she could before more fall from the trees,  or b) tired and has begun ranting about the next door neighbor's dirty tree that sheds lots and lots of clusters of red berries and skinny hard leaves, which are quite difficult to pick up. After years of calling out the back window, "Come in, Mama, it's too cold!" Or,  "It's windy! Just wait until the wind stops." Or, "It's raining!" I now step outside, followed happily by Molly the Cat who has been cooped inside because the Mama decided it's too cold, windy, and/or rainy for her to be outdoors.   I usually head to the other side of the yard  with my favorite rake. The sooner the leaves are picked up, the sooner t

Aloha!

Last week,  I read a post by Manzanita at Wanna Buy a Duck about a blogger friend who was visiting her. She'd ended her post with a question: "Have you ever visited in person with a blogging buddy?" I thought that would be pretty cool to meet a fellow blogger in person. But, I figured the odds are slim since the bloggers I would love to meet one day live in such far away places as Montana, British Columbia, Hawaii, Australia, the East Coast, and Malaysia. And, these days, far-away traveling is not on the horizon for the Husband and me. Ha! Was I proven wrong. About meeting blogger buddies in person, that is. On Tuesday, I received an e-mail message from Courtney of Maui Jungalow . She and her husband were visiting in Silicon Valley for a couple of days and she wondered if I might be interested in getting together. Voila! The next day, the Husband and I met them at the motorcycle seat factory in our town where Courtney's husband was ordering a custom-made sea

Ready to Go!

Tomorrow, I start another 30-day challenge of keeping excessive, delicious carbohydrates out of my diet. It's called the Sweet Fire Challenge , lead by nutrition education Mary Toscano. I completed another of her 30-day challenges in August . My poor eating and non-exercise habits began creeping back a few weeks ago, so when I learned about this new challenge, I decided to jump in before I gain back the pounds and inches I've lost, as well as lose all the sensibilities I've gained. I'm doing the extreme challenge, which requires that I follow three simple rules from November 11 to December 10: 1. No food or alcohol after 7:30 p.m. 2. No foods with flour or with more than 20 grams of sugars per serving 3. Do 30 minutes of exercise, or do 7,000 steps, every day. Soooooo, today, I ate sourdough bread and a maple old-fashioned doughnut for lunch. I'll probably have a bit more sourdough bread for dinner, along with three or four mini mini-chocolate-chip-c

Ms. Molly the Cat

Today is all about Molly the Cat. The gorgeous girl has been shepherding us for two-and-a-half years. The Mama, the Husband, and I all agree -- how ever did we manage before she came into our lives? Sometimes I like to work on the computer before breakfast. On some mornings, Molly jumps up on the desk and stretches out. "Hurry up," she says.  "How can I?" I ask her. "I can't see the screen. I need to use the mouse."  "Mrrrr," she says. "That's your problem." Most mornings before we eat breakfast, Molly and I head out the front door. I fetch the newspaper while she checks the grounds. Some days, Stewie, from down the street, sits beneath our car. Molly scowls intently from afar and when she decides Stewie is too slow to take the hint, Molly approaches in attack mood. Stewie has learned from past encounters that it's best to just leave. After breakfast, the Mama opens the screen door for Molly to

Uh-uh, Not Doing It. Yet.

Today,  begins NaNoWriMo , which is short for National Novel Writing Month. Thousands of writers from all over the world commit themselves to completing a 50,000-word novel by the end of the month. That's about 1,666 words a day. That is not easy! Last year, I signed up to give a try. My enthusiasm lasted one day, which, for last year, was pretty good as I was feeling quite burnt out. I just didn't know it then. Once upon a time I wanted to write a Great American novel. Do I still? Dunno. I do have my unfinished novel, The Mystery of Sweet Fat's Ballroom , on my computer. The story takes place in both the present and in the mid-1930s. Lately, I think I should rewrite it. Keep the story in the 1930s, with flashbacks, if any, going back to the early 1900s. Okay, writing that got me excited. I might just go immerse myself in the past to get the imagination juices rolling. But, I know, for sure, I won't be writing 1,666 words today. So what got me thinking about Na

I Am the Mama's Daughter

"How do other people clean their refrigerator coils?" I asked the Husband as he walked through the kitchen. I was laying on my side, looking at thick globs of dust clinging on the coils. "They don't," he said. "The vacuum cleaner can only reach so far." "Use a yardstick." Sigh. Earlier yesterday morning, the Mama asked me, "When are you going to vacuum the refrigerator coils?" Sigh. I thought I'd done it six months or a year ago, but the way time flies, it was probably two years ago.  I need to wash the kitchen floor soon, so I figured I might as well deal with the coils first. It would only take 10 minutes. Ha! Maybe it would've, if I had not gone and fetched the big yellow flashlight and shined it on the coils. Sigh. I had to make some kind of effort to get at those globs of dust. Not that the Mama would get down on the floor and inspect my job. That's something she can no longer do. Getting herself down o

The Sound of One Cricket

Will the cricket be background music to words anytime soon? Stay tuned, dear readers.

Breaking Personal Myths

This morning I crushed my own myth that I need a bicycle with a bunch of speeds to ride on Lone Tree Road, which is one of the foothill roads several miles from our house. Tilda-Hilda and I traveled 3 to 4 miles up the road before turning back. My goal was to get to the gate that either the county officials or residents close when they think the road is too dangerous to travel. Once I reached that gate, I pedaled a half-mile or so further to find a spot to take a photo of Tilda-Hilda. You're so lucky that I just thought about taking photos of where Tilda-Hilda and I have been around our county. I promise though that I will show only photos of our toughest feats. But, then, what constitutes toughest, eh? It's about another seven to nine miles to the end of Lone Tree Road (where the public can access it). Once upon a time, I said pedaling the length of this road is on my bucket list. But, that's when I thought I needed a 10-speed or 7-speed bicycle. No more! Pink cruis

O is for . . .

Ovulation. No more of that for me. Old. That's what I am and I'm fine with it. Ostentatious. Who me? Ovid. Never read his stuff. Should I start? Ogre. I can watch a Shrek movie over again. Ocean. Sometimes I think I could live by the ocean, especially if it is a warm ocean in which I could swim every day with the Husband. Say, like the ocean surrounding the Hawaiian Islands. Obequitate. As some of you dear readers know, I love to ride around on Tilda-Hilda, the pretty hard-working pink cruiser that she is. Obtuse. "You are such an obtuse thinker, Susie," said my high school government teacher long, long ago. Ha! He didn't know me at all. Now, if he had said to me, "You're such a dreamer."  So, now you know a bunch more stuff about me, brought to you by the fifteenth letter of the alphabet.  Olé! I'm hanging out at Jenny Matlock's Alphabe Thursday today. Come join me and read other posts featuring the letter O .

The Mama's Day

"Do you think it would depress the Mama if she saw photos of herself from her younger years?" I asked the Husband yesterday morning. "I don't know," he said. "Would you like it?" "Sure. But that's me." I would, too. But, I wasn't sure how the Mama would feel. So, I decided not to make a mosaic photo to give her for her ninety (cough third ) some birthday. You'd never guess what happened yesterday evening. The Mama asked me to find the photos of her wearing her Maria Clara dress and make big prints of them. So, I did. She'll be surprised when she sees them because it takes forever for me to do things. She had asked me to hem her jeans on the sewing machine.  I finally did yesterday. But, the pants had sat so long on the chair that Molly the Cat took to sleeping on them. This photo was taken in November, 1962, a few weeks after we moved into the house that she and the Daddy purchased.  She was standing in the

Nearly to the Top

Whooooooooooooooooo-hooooooooooooooooo!  Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwessommmmmmmmmmme! Awesome, awesome, awwwwwwwwwesomme! Everyone in the valley below should have heard me as I coasted down the hill this morning. Whooooo-hoooooo! Once a week for the past four weeks, I have been pedaling up Cienega Road, going further each time. I have yet to make it to the very top, but after today, I know that one day I shall. I managed to pedal about three-quarters up what I thought was the first incline, only to look up and see it was one long continuous incline. When it got too steep, I got off Tilda-Hilda (I think she may be partial to Tildy-Hildy) and walked her up to my first goalpost. Once there, I decided to walk a little further. Why not? I thought, I'm here. When it no longer seemed steep that I would fall trying to engage the pedals, I hopped on the pink cruiser and pedaled up the hill for a couple more yards. But, instead of turning around, I chose to walk Tilda-Hilda a few more yards

That Effervescent Older Couple

I was in my late 20s when I first noticed that there would always be one older couple dancing their hearts out to a band playing in the middle of a mall or a hotel, or at a street fair or a farmers market. The couple would waltz, do the box step, cha-cha-cha, boogie-woogie, or just freestyle to the music. The couple would be so full of joy that others would watch with big grins and smiles on their faces. A few people would even clap in appreciation. And, yes, there would be the few boors who would point at the older couple, laugh and make fun of them. But, then that's what boors do. Well, here's the good news. Turns out the Husband and I have become one of those effervescent older couples. Sam Farr 30-Day Challenge I'm done! Yesterday was the last day. Whoo-hooo! I followed the rules as well as can be. I ate no foods made of flours or had more than 20 grams of sugar per serving. For 29 out of the 30 days, I ate no food nor drank alcohol after 7:30 PM. I wor

Ride Along with Me

Yippeee! One more week to go with the 30-day health challenge. Have I lost weight? I don't know. I decided not to weigh myself when I started because I get very disappointed that I've lost only half-a pound or gained 2 pounds when I think I must've lost a gazillion pounds. Both the Husband and the Mama said I looked smaller today.  This past week I was missing bread. Rice or quinoa with peanut butter, pesto, or brie doesn't quite do it. Next week, I'll be searching for sourdough bread and maybe jalapeño tortillas. Not to worry, I won't go overboard. I decided to do an additional two weeks, but I'll modify the challenge by allowing myself to eat one kind of floured item each day, if I feel like it. My workouts changed this week. One morning, I woke up feeling too tired to bicycle so later that day I walked. I don't like walking because my knees hurt afterwards, which the Husband says is because I don't pick up my knees.  That day I discovered

Meet Tilda-Hilda

Finally, after 10 years, I have named the pink cruiser bicycle that I pedal. Say Hello to Tilda-Hilda. Isn't she pretty? She's a bit shy, but very dependable. That Tilda-Hilda. Since December 31 of last year, she has taken me about 558 miles, which is like making three round trips from my hometown to San Francisco. Wowza!   And, in all that time, she has only had one flat tire, which I wrote about over here . That's a pretty good feat since I have a way of not noticing what I run over. I am very proud of Tilda-Hilda. She gets a gold star. I get one too, for pedaling her all that much. Update of the Congressman Sam Farr 30-Day Challenge Yesterday (Monday) began the third week of the challenge. Whoo-hooo! I shall toot my horn and say that I have been strong and skipped the ice cream, sesame balls, Filipino sweet flour balls, and fruit tarts when they were readily available. I'm already thinking about what I want to do when this challenge is over. I heard that

Done and Did -- Week One of the 30-Day Challenge

"Wouldn't you like some potato chips with lunch?" I asked the Husband, as we waited for the light to turn green. "Sure." He's such a sweetheart. "Beer would taste good with potato chips. Shall we get some beer, too?" "Absolutely!" I made a left into the supermaket parking lot. "But, can you have chips?" he asked. I was on my second week of the 30-day health-and-fitness challenge. "Yes, as long as they're not made from flour," I answered, easing the car into a parking spot far away from the door. "You can't have beer then," he said. I was momentarily bummed out. And, all this time we'd been driving around town doing errands, I'd been thinking of a gin and tonic. Not that I'm a big cocktail drinker,  But, today, I've been desiring an alcoholic drink. Then, my brain cells kicked in. "Alcohol is okay, as long as it's not past 7:30 PM." "Are you sure? B

30 Days towards a Healthy Lifestyle

Tomorrow starts the 30-Day Sam Farr Challenge for me. Sam Farr is my representative  in the U.S. House of Representatives and last week he decided to take health educator Mary Toscano's invitation to a 30-day healthy lifestyle challenge. In so doing, he invited his constituents to join him. In a nutshell, from tomorrow, July 12, until August 12, I will follow these three rules: No food or alcohol after 7:30 PM. No foods with flour (including gluten-free flours) or more than 20 grams of sugars (per serving). Complete 1 hour of exercise of 10,000 steps daily. I feel confident that I can handle rules #1 and #3 quite easily. Thirty days without pasta, bread, cereal, ice cream, cookies, and pie? That will be the toughie for me. It's the primary reason I decided to take the challenge. I've slipped back into the habit of eating desserts, rolls, pasta, and such, knowing full well that they aren't good for my eczema, estrogen dominance, and right-at-the-border diabe

A Bunch of Firsts in June

A Happy July First to you, Dear Readers! And, because it's July first, I'm going to tell, and show, some of the firsts that the Husband and I experienced in June. Bottom line: summer is definitely here. Whooo-hooo! As some of you know, I do another blog called Take 25 to Hollister , which is all about where we live in California. Yup, Hollister, California. Our history and culture is not at all like the fictional Hollister, California of clothing fame. If you're interested in knowing the difference, check out this post . But, I mention the blog because our first-time experiences took place in Hollister and nearby locations. You'll also probably notice the watermark on some of my photos. Now, on with the show and tell. Hollister Airshow   Have you ever seen an air show from the flight line? It's definitely a different experience from suddenly stopping on the side of the road and peering up into the sky at the planes. That's how I've seen air show

Hush, Mockingbird, Hush!

Our sweetie-cakes is bored. How do I know Miss Molly by Golly is bored? "Break time," she mewed. She hopped up on my desk, walked back and forth on my keyboard, and checked out what was on the computer, then plopped down in front of me, insisting that she be petted. Molly rarely comes upstairs into the office in the morning on her own volition. ( Ooooh, big word. Could my ability to recall vocabulary be coming back? Take that Menopause! ) And, the only reason she normally doesn't care to seek out my attention at this time of the day is because she's enjoying herself in the Mama's garden. So, why wasn't she there on this gorgeous summer day? Unfortunately, summer brings back her seasonal harasser—the mockingbird. Every time, Molly the Cat goes outside, the bird suddenly appears and screeches at her. Molly just sits and looks at it, as if saying, "What's your problem?" The mockingbird then swoops at her and as Molly retreats to the hous

Socks, Lovely Socks

I drew socks the other day because I bought some socks for the Mama and me. They are just as colorful as the ones in the picture. The Husband bought socks, too. He was the instigator, which meant he needed socks and the Mama must have forgotten to give him socks for Christmas. Actually, it was more like she forgot to tell me that she wanted to buy his annual Christmas bunch of socks. I should've remembered, but I haven't been good in that department either. A couple weeks ago, I forgot about the Mama's doctor appointment. At least, I remembered the following day and called the doctor's office. We went on Friday for his five-minute examination to make sure she is still ticking. Yup, she is indeed. Her blood count actually went up,  and her blood pressure is that of a spring chicken. The Mama also gained a pound. She'd been losing a pound every four months for the past two years so I was very happy to hear the nurse say she was 110. The Mama's reaction. "

Eggplant, Tomato, and Sausage Pasta

The other night, I made the kind of red pasta sauce for which I have been hankering for the longest time. Hurrah! The photo shows the leftovers I ate for breakfast. Getting that "perfect" taste was by accident so I have no idea if I will be able to do it again. Booo! I'm one of those people who likes to read cookbooks but modifies recipes while cooking and doesn't pay attention to how things are being changed. I also rarely measure amounts, and, when I do, I'm eyeballing amounts. That's probably why my chemistry experiments in school usually failed. Ha! on the person who copied my answers. Ingredients I Prepped Slice 1/4" circles out of two long Japanese eggplants Destem a handful of cremini mushrooms and slice them into halves Mince two fist fulls of chives (which is from the Mama's garden) Smash and mince 6 to 9 garlic cloves (assorted sizes of small to medium) Dice a small yellow onion. Slice 1/4" circles out of two basil-mozz

It's Garbage Day, Again.

I'm not going to talk about garbage, other than to say that tonight we put the garbage cans out on the curb.  It seems like I just brought them in, which is my way of saying that lately the days go by much too quickly. I had planned to write a post on Monday, then yesterday, and then before lunch this morning. Now, I want to post this before I start making dinner in um 20 minutes. It's going to be a good dinner, too. We went to the Farmers Market this afternoon. All three of us—the Mama, the Husband, and me. It was a rare outing for the Mama and even rarer because she initiated the adventure. She was able to walk a block, back and forth, before she tired out. Hurrah for the 90+ Mama! Although, afterwards, when she plopped into the car, she said, "I don't think I will come anymore." And, when we reached home, she said, "I don't think I can go anywhere anymore. I want to sit down all the time." We could get her a walker with a chair so that sh

A Kind and Thoughtful Guy

The other day the Husband pushed my pink beach cruiser along the highway while I walked slowly behind him. Is that a sweetheart or what? I'd ridden nearly 8 miles when I heard POW! My rear wheel shook like something got caught in the spokes. A few minutes later, the bicycle was not going as fast as my feet were pedaling it. Hello, Flat Tire. Grrrr . Thank goodness, I had the camera to distract myself as I pushed the bicycle beside me. Want to see the photos that I took of cows & horses , grass , palm trees , and yellow barn ? And, I had the cell phone. Pshew. It was days like that I was glad I paid attention to the Husband when he asked, "Do you have the phone?" It took a couple of tries before I got hold of the Husband to tell him what happened so he and the Mama wouldn't worry. "Would you like me to come and walk with you?" he asked. "You don't have to," I said, "But, that would be nice." About 40 minutes later,

A Bargain Jar of Pickles

$3.99 for a gallon jar of kosher whole dill pickles. About 70 of them. Three to four-inches long and rather thick, too. As far as I'm concerned, the $3.99 gallon jar of pickles is the best deal at Costco.Yes, indeed. A medium-size jar of kosher pickles at the supermarkets costs more than that. And, when I think how much a single Kosher pickle of this kind costs at a deli—oh, my! The Husband and I bought our second gigantic jar of pickles last week. We went through the first jar in a little over two months. Uh-huh, we like our pickles. We don't eat a pickle every day nor do we each eat a pickle. Even though pickles contribute to our probiotic consumption, we gotta be moderate about it. We also do not want to get tired of these yummy pickles that take up a lot of space on the top shelf of the refrigerator. The Mama doesn't care for pickles. Too sour. But, she does eye the jar, no doubt thinking about what could be stored in it. I asked her if she would like the first

Liebster Award = Revealing A Bunch about Moi

Ah, the Liebster Award. In the best Jackie Gleason voice doing a Scarlett O'Hara imitation that I can muster, I say, "How sweet it is!" Birgit of BB Creations ,  who I met during the 2014 Blogging from A to Z Challenge , nominated me for the Liebster Award. It is a virtual medal that bloggers present fellow bloggers as recognition for the enjoyment they receive reading the awardees' posts. That's my interpretation of the award. If you're interested in learning more about the Liebster Award, check out this post by Lorraine Reguly at Wording Well . Bloggers can choose to accept or reject the Liebster Award. I accept the award with much gratitude. Thank you very much, Birgit. Like the Oscar and most other awards, a blogger can be nominated several times over. I've been fortunate to be nominated twice. Yaay for me. So much for modesty on my part today. :-) The Rules for Accepting the Liebster Award According to Reguly , the rules vary for the

A Fun Time was Had by Me at the A to Z

A few days ago, I met a professional photographer who told me that he never took photos between 10 AM to 4 PM because the lighting is bad then.  I left his gallery with "Never between 10 and 4" embedded in my brain, but still with disbelief. It being nearly 6 PM, I went crazy taking photos. Dang, if there wasn't a magical quality of light in the photos. I truly did not bank on it happening in my photos. So, what does that have to do with my evaluation about the Blogging from A to Z Challenge in April that I completed. Beats me. All I know is that I wanted to use the above photo for this post before I even wrote it. Maybe by the end of the post, the metaphor of taking photos will show itself. This was my second year doing the challenge. I found it more enjoyable than last year. One reason was that I did not link up both my blogs to the challenge, even though I post to the other blog, Take 25 to Hollister , every day. I chose to link up The View from the Top of t

Things to Do Today

The first, okay, maybe it was the fourth, thing I did this morning before breakfast was write that To Do list. I did finish the mystery I've been reading at breakfast. I diligently stuck with the story although I didn't care for the protagonist who was too much of an insecure whiner. But once I learned who the suspect was, I skimmed through the final scenes. I closed the book and purposely went to complete something else. For about the next two hours, I topped off the Mama's outdoor potted plants with potting soil. It was something I had been thinking about doing for the last two summers. The other week, while the Mama was watering her plants, she mentioned that they needed more soil. "Uh-huh," I said, glancing at them and thinking I need to do that before she got to it. Fortunately, for me, a few days ago, the Husband and I bought three huge bags of potting soil. The Mama requested one, but I bought two extra bags. Not because I was going to add soil to

The End Zone

It was cold and foggy on the day of the club picnic. What better way to get warm than to play touch football.  That day, nearly 40 years ago, was the first time (and the only time ) I've ever played the game. We didn't even play it in girls PE in high school, which now when I look back, I wonder why. We had field hockey (loved those sticks), archery, swimming (my favorite), soccer (hated all that running), folk dancing, tumbling (aw, gee, again!), bowling, and an assortment of other sports, but no touch football. Not even flag football. Again, I wonder why since football was a big deal in my high school. Anyway, I digress. In case, you've forgotten, or are confused, this tale of my rare athleticism happened when I was still a not-so-petite, petite young woman in college. Everyone had traveled an hour or so to a park south of the city. I have no idea anymore where it was, but I do remember the large meadow where we played touch football. Always willing to try almost any

Five YEAR Plan

The other week, the Husband and I decided on a five year plan. First five year plan we've ever made about anything, too. The best part about it: We're already in year three. (By the way, did I use that colon punctuation properly?) What is this five year plan? And, how is that related to the photos of our hair? I'm glad you asked. This tale starts in 2010 when the Husband and I decided to go bald. The Husband also chose to shave off his mustache and beard. You can read that story here , if you're interested. In 2011, we shaved off our hair again. In 2012, we wondered how long our hair would get after two years. When 2013 came along, we got used to our messy look and thought about trimming it all once the temperatures got very hot. They never did. So, here we are again at our anniversary of shorn locks. The last time my hair has been this long was in my youth, albeit (oooh, love that transitional word) my hair back then was much, much thicker. The Husband says t