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www.su-sieeemac.com

I just love it when technical things come together. After all, I am a non-techie, regardless of what others may say.

Early this morning, or late last night (depending on your point of view), I received an e-mail saying that my domain names had expired and if I wanted to keep them, I need to renew pronto. So, that I did. I decided to forgo the URL for the old blog and purchase a domain name for Don't Be a Hippie.

Purchasing su-sieeemac.com was quite a cheap thrill, I tell you what. 

su-sieeemac.com? Yep. I figure I can always use the URL for something else down the line, should I ever cease writing Don't Be a Hippie. For once, I'm looking ahead.

Anyway, a few minutes ago, I keyed in the right combination of words and numbers to have Don't Be a Hippie appear in the browser when I plug su-sieeemac.com into the appropriate bar. Whooo-hooo! Another cheap thrill.

I think I will count this feat as a Doing 60. The little things count, too, in my book.

So, as not to totally bo…

Closing Up

Update: May 20, 2013
Today, I decided to merge the old and new blogs. There are just too many posts from "This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes Then" that I want to keep alive.  ~Su-sieee! Mac 

It has been over two months since my last post. I have mumbled several times to the husband, "I'm going to stop blogging This and That. Each time, he replied, "I thought you already have."

Yeah. Well. I finally am.

This is it. My last post.

For this blog, that is.

I've decided to start another blog. The husband  will be surprised.

The new blog is called Don't Be a Hippie. . . Now and Then. Its focus is more selfish. I shall be revealing as much as I dare about myself through my memories, stories of my elders, and everyday experiences. At least that's what I think.

Thank you Dear Readers and fellow Bloggers for your kindly visits and generous support. I hope you'll stop by my new blog.

~ Su-sieee! Mac




The Wearing of Red

I do feel sspassazzy about wearing something red now that I'm a young "old" fogey. Nope, not a red hat. Though I did learn I could've joined the Red Hat Society several years ago.

Yesterday, I bought myself a red lacy brassiere. Ooh la-la, indeed.

First time, I've ever owned a red one. Wonder why I never got one before. I liked the way I felt free, invincible, and joyful when I tried it on, similar to how I feel after having cut my hair very short.

Do I feel this same way when I wear a red frock, red shoes, or red earrings? Not that I can recall, but then I rarely wear red because it is such a visible color. Hello, stop sign. When I was in eighth grade, the mama made me a lovely red dress. She was disappointed that I didn't like to wear it. Ah, kids. I would definitely wear it today.

How about you? How does wearing red make you feel?

Hmmm. A Poem.

Xenophile, Xenophobe

Xenophile: A person who likes foreign people and things.

Xenophobe: A person who is very afraid, for no sane reason, of anything foreign and, in particular, of people of foreign origin.

These two words are right next to each other in the dictionary, at least in mine it is. Anybody else see the irony in that? Xenophobe coming after xenophile, that is.

Seeing the two words together made me think of a few things:

My uncle and aunt lived in California but they couldn't get married there. I don't remember what year it was, but, it was before the state anti-miscegenation law was repealed in 1948. They had to travel to another state to tie the knot. I wonder if going back home was their honeymoon.

When I was in high school, 40 years ago, a friend told me that he didn't think he was going to like me because he had heard some ranchers talk about my brother and me. One of the ranchers had said something like: "Those kids sure know how to hold up their race." My friend thought …

The Vow

"When I'm gone, you take care of your mother," the daddy suddenly said to me one evening. He did not wait for my response. He knew I would promise.

I was in my late 20s. At the time, the mama and I still clashed, mostly about what my life should be. At the time, I really didn't think I could ever live with her again. Several days was about all I could handle being around her.

Thirty years later, the husband and I have been living with the Mama for over seven years now.  It took at least the first four years for each of us to get the hang of starting to live together. That's life.  Nothing wrong with that.

The almost 90-year old Mama has slowed down. But only some. When she gets it in her head that she wants something done, she wants it done pronto, and she wants to do it by herself. Usually, she comes up with these projects while we're away.  For instance, one morning she asked that we help her with the lemon tree after we finish breakfast. I thought she meant …

United We Stand

This message is strong in my head and heart today. So, I shall leave it to Aesop and the Brotherhood of Man to deliver it. 

The Four Oxen and the Lion by Aesop
translated by George Fyler Townsend
(Public Domain Translation of Aesop's Fables Selections)
A Lion used to prowl about a field in which Four Oxen used to dwell. Many a time he tried to attack them; but whenever he came near they turned their tails to one another, so that whichever way he approached them he was met by the horns of one of them. At last, however, they fell a-quarrelling among themselves, and each went off to pasture alone in a separate corner of the field. Then the Lion attacked them one by one and soon made an end of all four.
United we stand, divided we fall.  



Random rambling

I've been feeling muddle-headed lately. Too many brain lapses. Quite a lot of pressing of the delete button. Sigh. So, bear with me, dear readers, as I ramble forward to clear my mind with random thoughts.

Random thought number one. Big birds (maybe the doves) splatted big time on the side of the car and the driveway. Very rude! Especially since we leave bird seeds out every day.

Random thought number two. The husband got a surprise check for $100 yesterday. It was part of a cash settlement in a class action law suit against a large drug distributor that was alleged to have set drug prices wrongfully high. The husband had no idea it was taking place. The company settled rather than go to court because it would be cheaper to pay $350 million today. In settling, the company does not formally admit to wrongdoing. That part is what always astounds me about corporations that get away with crime.

Random thought number three. I have publishing deadlines over the next two years. I hope I ca…

The Mystery of the Christmas Presents

Sitting on our doorstep are two Christmas bags that someone left on our doorstep. The husband and I found it when we came home yesterday evening. Somebody must've come by when the mama was sweeping leaves in her garden. We brought them in and looked for tags to identify the givers. One said "Delsa" and the other said "Happy Thanksgiving."

Obviously, someone left the presents at the wrong house. So, of course the husband and I headed back outside and knocked on a few neighbors' doors. No luck at all.  Nobody was home at the house where we think the intended giftee lives. And, the other neighbors couldn't help us. All we can do is try again come morning.

We set the presents on the doorstep in case the ones who left them finally realize they got the wrong house and come back for them. I surely hope they do.  The paranoid part of me wonders if the presents contain contraband or a bomb. But, I suppose if it was the latter, we would've heard something ti…

Thank you, Senator Sanders!

Thank you, Senator Sanders for having the guts and balls to state so clearly how wrong it is to extend the tax cuts, as well as to cut the estate tax rate, for the very, very, very rich. 

Thank God, we have someone in Congress who has the guts and balls to tell it as it is.

Senator Bernie Sanders, the progressive Democrat from Vermont, spoke on the Senate floor for more than 8-1/2 hours yesterday. Click here to see a video of his speech.

In my mind, Senator Sanders embodies what a politician is supposed to be—one who advocates for the American people.

I also think Senator Sanders embodies the true meaning and spirit of Christmas. And that leads me to today's Christmas song. Here is a 1916 recording of "Oh, Holy Night" performed by Enrico Caruso.

The Unattended Little Boy

The little boy, maybe 2 and a half or so, stood on the edge of the lawn pointing happily at the red and orange leaves in the gutter. He wore no hat nor gloves. He had on no shoes or socks. He wore only a short-sleeved tee-shirt and thin shorts. The temperature was in the 50s. What the heck was he doing outside?

As we pedaled by him on our bicycles, I did not see any adult keeping tabs on him.

Odd.

A few houses down the street, an elderly man was mucking about in his garage. "Excuse me," I called, hopefully, "Are you missing a boy?"

"No," he said. "Is there one missing?"

"There's a little boy on the corner. He isn't wearing any shoes or socks."

"That's not good," said the man looking up the street. 

"Do you know where he might live?"

"No," said the old man.

The husband and I turned back.

The little boy couldn't or wouldn't answer any of our questions. "What's your name?" "…

The Ups and Downer of the Weekend

Because Veterans Day fell on a Thursday this year, the past weekend was a four-day one for some folks. A few of our friends think that the husband and I have a seven-day weekend because we work at home. I say they're just envious. But, I admit that if I ever had to do a 9 to 5 job again, it would be a very difficult adjustment. So, knock on wood that won't need to be.

Anyway, back to the highlights of the weekend.

Thursday The husband and I went downtown to watch the Veterans Day Parade. That was the first time I've been to one. Ever. It was a short, but fun, parade. 

If you love a small town parade, come to Hollister, California.  A couple weeks ago was the high school homecoming parade. A couple of weeks from now will be the "Hey, it's time for Christmas!" parade. That's not the real name, but you know what I mean.

Other annual parades that march through downtown include the Portuguese Festival Parade,  the Horse Show and Rodeo Parade, and the Mexican Inde…

Sunday 160: A Change in Routine

The mama constantly works. She sows and maintains her gardens. She breaks to eat lunch and to read the daily news. Today she also napped.  Unusual. We both wondered.
The Sunday 160 is hosted by the Monkey Man. A 160 is 160 characters, including spaces. To learn about it and to read other bloggers' Sunday 160, head over to this page.

A Special 23rd Date

Fourteen years ago, about the same time as I'm writing this, I'm getting food ready for the next day's festivity. Getting married to the husband, it was.

Fourteen years ago, about an hour or so from now, I will have finally laid down beside a very anxious husband-to-be. He would be so anxious, he would not be able to sleep. And, that would mean I would not get to sleep.

"We can still call it off," I will have said.

"No, we can't," he will have replied.

"Yes, we can."

"No, we can't. People are coming."

"We can call them up first thing in the morning."

"No, we can't."

"Yes, we can."

"You've already made the food."

"I can put it in the freezer."

"We don't have to get married," I will have said.

"We already got the license," he will have replied.

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes, I do."

"What's the problem?"

"You'll write …

Sunday 160: A Successful Turn

“Pretend that you are a car,”

Lisa said to us three novices.

“Show confidence.”

We four pedaled onto the busy street.

100 feet later, we signaled and turned left.

The Sunday 160 is hosted by the Monkey Man. To learn about it and to read other bloggers' Sunday 160, head over to this page.

Happy Labor Day, One and All!

To one and all, thank you!

I raise up my glass of water to all the men, women, and children today and throughout our country's history who have toiled and boiled and troubled to build and maintain our public infrastructure; tend the fields and put food on our tables; create, produce, and sell the goods we use; make sure all business, administrative, and financial services are done; educate and inform us; and perform every other job under the sun. Without sweet willing labor, governments, small businesses, and multinational corporations could not prosper, and the rich could not become filthy rich! May we all have raises tomorrow. 

A gal can dream. I am grateful for a national holiday that honors the American worker. And that's what we all are, whether or not we are employed at the moment and whether or not we are U.S. citizens, permanent residents, or immigrant workers.  I hope you're all having a nice break from your regular routine.

Watching cartoons is a nice break. So, fo…

"A Case for Smiles"

See that mess of fabric on the right.

I'm almost finally going to turn them into some things. Operative word here is almost. A couple hours ago I ordered more fabric from Sew, Mama, Sew!  Almost 8 yards worth of different happy, calming designs with such names as Good Earth,  Daisy Dance,  Carnations on Gold, and Poppy Parade Brown.  So, once my shipment comes in, I shall drop everything and sew pillowcases.

Pillow cases?

Yes, pillow cases.

I'm going to get off my butt and sew at least seven pillowcases for "A Case for Smiles," a fabulous project sponsored by ConKerr Cancer.  Based in Philadelphia, the nonprofit group delivers donated handmade pillowcases to terminally ill children in hospitals across the United States. The founder is Cindy Kerr who started making pillowcases for her son and other children in the oncology unit in 2002 to help bring smiles to the kids as well as brighten their hospital rooms.

According to the ConKerr Cancer Web site, the organization has…

Whatever Will Be, Will Be

"Que sera, sera. . ."

The husband looked up from the Sunday comics.

"Whatever will be, will be. . ."

He looked down the hallway.

The mama had already wandered out of sight.

"That's the first time I heard her sing," said the husband.

"She's getting ready to sing tonight at the novena," I said, just as surprised as him.

"I don't think they'll be singing that song," he said.

"No," I said, "But they should."

Unfortunately, the mama didn't have the chance to sing. Her ride never came to take her to the second night of the novena of mourning for her friend. That's a Catholic Church ritual of praying that soothes the souls of the departed's loved ones. My definition.

Fortunately, the mama didn't seem to mind that she had been forgotten. She was probably relieved. She did not have to deal with the question that people seem compelled to ask her. How old are you?

It's not a question anyone shoul…

A New "Old" Milestone

I believe the husband and I reached another milestone yesterday.

We went to the grand opening of Vertigo Cafe in the next town over. We decided to drink our free coffee and eat our croissants on the patio. The husband went out with the coffee to grab the last free table, while I waited for the food. When I came out, he was standing next to the table. "There's only one chair," he said at the same time that I noticed why he had been standing.

"We can sit on the bench," he said. That was okay by me. I was in need of coffee and food to break my evening fast. Everything was registering very slow with me.

"Take my chair," said a voice behind me. I looked over at a young family. Two small children were perched on chairs. Dad was standing behind his son, and Mom was standing beside her chair.

"No, thank you," we said. "We can sit on the bench."

"You have a plate," the young mom said. "Besides, we are about to leave."

The h…

Being Heavy Handed

Burp.

Excuse me.

It's past midnight. Dinner was over at six this evening. I am still full.

Tonight's dinner was extra rich. I didn't realize it was. Until now.

We invited friends over for dinner, and  I wanted to serve something that would be easy to put together and eat because we were going to a meeting afterwards. So, I made fried sirloin beef wontons and shrimp and grits. The grits were cooked with gouda and cheddar cheeses. The shrimps, with a bit of onion and chives, were sauteed in olive oil, and at the last second (freshly cooked) bacon bits were stirred into the mixture. 

Fried meat bits. Shrimp. Bacon. Cheeses. Tooo, tooo heavy. I was just not thinking, was I?

The shrimp and grits dish was delicious. I followed (kinda) the Smokey Shrimp and Grits recipe at the Whistlestop Cafe Cooking blog. The cook adds creamed spinach to the dish. I didn't. Just as well.

Did I mention that we had semi-sweet chocolate chip cookies for dessert?

And, that I drank a bottle of Fire…