“You desire to know the art of living, my friend? It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering.” — Henri Frederic Amiel, philosopher and writer (1821-1881)

On the coffeetable:

“My heart, my hope
My soul, my smile
My held and whole
Beloved child”

Hmm. Well, a lot has been going on the last four months. We live in the suburbs now. And you know what? I don’t just like it, I adore it. That surprises me, daily. It is quiet here, and we have mother cussing snakes in the mother cussing yard and well, that’s okay. We’re organic, they like our fresh grass.

And about the grass… everyone out here waters the grass. I haven’t seen so much emerald green since I was a child, and the neighbors were all working hard to keep up with the Joneses. Turns out you need to water… every day, pretty much, to have the Nice Grass that feels sooooooo good on the feet. First, I did not know how to use a sprinkler. Am City Girl.

Steve, doubtfully: “Did you figure out yet how the yellow tabs work? To adjust the flow one way or another?”

me: “DO NOT MOCK ME.”

I have a new trick, it’s called Water the Sidewalk and Hit the Trees on the Parking Strip, the Lawn and the Shrubs, All At Once, Woo-Hoooooo…

But before I give you a full update, here are a couple of blogs I’ve been enjoying lately:

Winn’s Window

They Call Me Jane’s Blog

Things that have remained the same:

We all still love books. Food. Playing. Hockey, hockey, hockey.

Things that are different:

Just about everything. I’ve applied for, and been accepted into, grad school. The kids will both start new schools in a few weeks. I have transferred (library work) to a new school, on the west side. In case you’re counting, that is four new schools for three people. Steve doesn’t get to go to school, but he gets to go to work and play table tennis with the guys and have snacks, so that’s something, I suppose.

We live in a different zip code area now, different city, different county. Lots of changes. I love our new house and want to show it off, but we’ve gone so far underground you can’t even find us anymore. We miss our friends; we don’t particularly miss a lot of b.s. from the old neighborhood and the old city. Too much drama. Also I shouldn’t say “b.s.” we say “cuss now.” Too much cuss in the old neighborhood.

We have more room to roam out here, and not just around the house. Lots of forests, greenspaces, parks, nature preserves. We see deer sometimes. (My Mia will say Hmmmph who cares?? to that. She has deer and they eat all of her beauteous flowers. But out here, it’s not that common to see deer wandering through your yard.)

Also, no one hangs out their laundry to dry, but that’s ridiculous. It saves a lot of money, and also prevents wear and tear on your clothing items. So Steve bought a clothesline for me, one of those twirly ones, and it looks just… like a clothesline. And a little tacky. But I hang out the laundry whenever I want and the sheets and towels smell like the fresh air and sunshine.

OK, that’s all for now, I’m tired. That’s another thing about the suburbs — you get a lot of exercise. All of that nonsense about driving everywhere? We walk a lot, ride bikes, and do about five or six sports. Thus, the laundry.

Happy Saturday, y’all. Off to finish watering the yard, without hitting the clothes that are drying on the line.

— wm

One of my librarian friends sent along this link.

Dave Barry once described Dockers pants as being for the “bigger-butted man,” and I thought that was real funny.

Until we all got super-sized.

Now along comes Steve, with a new door for the kitty-kitty-kittens.

He figures Wacky Cats 1 & 2 won’t go much over 15 pounds (they’re already 13 and 15 years old), but Baby?

“He’s gonna hit 20 pounds once he gets the middle-age spread going.”

We’re now the proud owners of the Big Cat Door, which can handle critters “large up to 25 pounds.”

In addition to the four-way security lock and the see-through rigid flap, you’ll find that it is “Generously sized for today’s large cats and small dogs.”

For the bigger-butted mammals in your life, this is the door you’ll want, yes, indeed.

Would you like my mother-in-law’s recipe for Microwave Cherry Chocolate Cake? Yeah, I thought so.

Ingredients
1 2-layer chocolate cake mix (we like devil’s food)
1 can cherry pie filling
1 tablespoon almond extract
2 eggs
Powdered sugar or chocolate frosting

Process

Beat eggs, add almond extract and cherry pie filling. Mix ’til combined. Add cake mix and mix by hand until thoroughly combined.

Pour into pan and bake:

9 x 13-inch glass baking dish: 11-12 minutes
Microwaveable Bundt pan: 15-16 minutes

Cover with waxed paper and let stand for 5-10 minutes.

Turn out cake and frost with powdered sugar or chocolate frosting when cool. Great with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream on the side.

Bon appetit!

I found this poem (or part of a poem?) last week, tucked in with some letters. It’s pretty — I wish I could claim it, but I’m not the author of this one. No clues, no attribution, just a phone number on the back for someone named Renee, and a note scribbled down that says, B wc at 3. (That translates, in Nancy-speak, to B. — B. who? who knows — will call at 3.)

And now, the poem:

“This was the place where in spring
the ground swelled with the
burst of growing things, where
in summer, like now, the air
was a beautiful blue.

In autumn, in this still
place, the vesper sparrow
sang in the mornings, and,
according to his moods,
throughout the day, but sang
his sweetest, conducted his
best services at evenfall.”

A little round-up:

Reading/watching this week:

David Strathairn just knocks me out in this movie, based on the story of no-holds-barred CBS newscaster Edward R. Murrow and his producer and partner, Fred Friendly (played by George Clooney). It’s a toss-up really, whose performance is better in this, they’re all good, from the leads to the supporting cast. The film skillfully blends actual footage from the McCarthy hearings into Hollywood film and does it well. The ensemble cast — all splendid — include Ray Wise, Patricia Clarkson, Robert Downey Jr. and Frank Langella.

On to the books — yes, I’m tackling another Pollan book, that’s right. This time it’s “The Omnivore’s Dilemma.” It’s good, it’s tough going to read — really intense and lots of facts, background, science, math, names and places. You know I enjoy a “lite” summer read. Woof. It will make you look at corn in a whole new jaded way. Also, I never want to eat beef ever again. I’m serious. Even if it’s grass-fed, I’m sick of this crap — literally — and can’t support it any more. Remember the whole mad cow thing? OK — it’s not all right to feed cows other cows’ brains any more. Oh, yes, that’s bad. Bad, bad, bad. But as far as feeding them other parts? Game on. Blech. Sorry for my language, but it’s all shit, shit, and more shit, and then it’s re-gurged shit and it’s fed to us and our babies. Why are we agreeing to this? (Oh, sweet! Just noticed the McDonald’s pop-up ad is running on my sidebar. OK, I think I need to stop whoring it out here.)

This is a nasty, nasty country we live in, as far as our agribusiness goes. And our politics. And our need to drop bombs hither and yon, according to our whims. And our refusal to pay for education, books, teachers, social services and health care. Other than that, America Rocks!

Argh.

“America: Love It or Give It Back.”

Something lighter, please? Any Young Adult books by any of the Sharons are good: Sharon Flake, Sharon Draper or Sharon Creech. Just finished “Ruby Holler”; “Walk Two Moons” is next on the list.

“Accepting a generous spoonful, Dallas said, ‘I suppose we should have told you we were going –‘

Florida licked the honey from her fingers. ‘Well, ma’am, that’s a mighty interesting way to think.'”

“OLD VET

PLEASE HELP”