It's not all dysphoria

So that was a rather unpleasant post ... here is something a lot more positive:

That's an adoption, kids.   In Florida.  Two dads and one very happy son.  Oh, and Judge Waller.  She's happy, too.  That courtroom was filled with friends, family, and a whole bunch of lawyers and social workers who were thrilled to see it happen.

Sometimes I love my job.  This was one of them.

Dysphoria

So busy ... no cooking ... not nearly enough knitting.

I hate to sound like a whiny old lady, but this anemia is kicking my arse.  I cannot begin to describe to you how much I truly loathe the iron pills.  I don't think they are helping me. 

Besides being tired, I am angry.  A low-grade anger that bubbles to the surface each time Certain Topics or Certain Persons are mentioned.  It's all about Family and at this stage of my life, I was looking forward to peace, tranquility, and many happy Thanksgiving dinners.  Instead, I've got anger, regret, annoyance, and more anger.  Thanksgiving is going to be me, Rob, Cory, and three Cornish hens.  Any other combination is only going to result in heartburn.

If I had the financial wherewithal, I would head to St. Croix.  Or Alaska. 

Heck, if I had the financial wherewithal, I would retire at the end of the year, walk away from this white elephant of a house, pack up my family and pets and head for Cleveland.  Lot of good restaurants in Cleveland.  From there ... anywhere the road and my Ford Expedition takes us.

Now that's a plan.

Back in the saddle again

My blogging mojo has bad juju ... or something like that.  I'm going to blame it on the anemia, and the cure is certainly worse than the disease because taking that iron pill every day is doing not-so-wonderful things to what is left of my digestive system.  Enough said about that.

My spontaneity, however, remains firmly in place.  Sure, sure, the cruise is all ready and set up for December, but I did myself one better and planned a mini-vacation to Savannah in about three minutes.  Seriously.  Spent last weekend in one of the most beautiful cities in the United States with my best boy.  The weather was beyond perfect, and then there were all these dachshunds ...  I had no idea that Savannah hosted an Oktoberfest celebration every year, but I won't be forgetting it.  It made an already lovely day walking along River Street even better, and I didn't think that was possible.

And then there is the food.  I am beginning to think of Savannah as a mini-New Orleans, sans chicory coffee and beignets, because it is hard to get a bad meal there.  Of course there was the Original Pancake House.  Then we checked out 700 Drayton, which is in this really cool building on (what else?) Drayton Street.  Definitely have to go back and work our way through that menu.  And to end a great trip, brunch at B.Matthew's Eatery on Bay Street.  Rob told me yesterday that since we ate our way through Savannah, he wanted to take off a few extra pounds so we could eat our way through the cruise in December.  I love that man.


Rob and the amazing apple pancake at the Original Pancake House.

I have fallen into garter stitch knitting and I can't get up.  It wasn't even a graceful segue, but instead one of those catch your foot on the curb and go sprawling into your neighbor's lawn sort of deal.  There I was, knitting happily away on lace patterns, and my brain started screaming baby surprise jacket ... finished it, started another ...  whipped up a garter stitch baby hat that matches the baby surprise jacket ... finished that, started a tomten jacket and a baby kimono, all in garter stitch.  Ordered two books from Amazon, all about garter stitch. As the kids like to text, WTF???  I wonder if I will ever get my sock obsession back.  I could use a few more pairs.  Seriously.

I have discovered the wonders of iTune extend beyond downloading my favorite music.  TV episodes, my friends.  Whether it's the season finale of Doctor Who, which I missed because I was in Savannah, or the first Man from U.N.C.L.E., vintage 1964 black-and-white, for a small fee I can download, own, and watch each episode as the mood hits me.  On my iPad, through earphones, while I knit.  It doesn't get much better than that.

The Jewish holidays slipped by quietly for us.  We have not attended services in some years now, but I'm okay with that.  My feelings about God and Judaism are the same as always;  my methods of practice have shifted and morphed over the past 50 years, and somehow I am back where I started.  Which is to say I won't be joining the local Chabad in the near future.  If I plan ahead, I can probably Skype next year's High Holy Day services.  Yeah, I'm bad.  No regrets.


This is how we break the fast ... if we had fasted ...

Today's recipe is brought to you by Traditions-R-Us ... Jewish stuffed peppers in a sweet and sour tomato sauce.  I had chopped meat on the brain (and that is not a variation on Mad Cow Disease) and gave Rob the choice of stuffed peppers or Swedish meatballs.  Even though there is a jar of lingonberries winking at us everytime we open the pantry door, he went with the peppers, which suited me just fine.  One of my very favorite dishes of all time, and one of the first things I learned to cook.

And it is definitely a good day to stay home and cook, because the weather has been worse than awful.  It feels like monsoon season in Korea.  Twelve days of rain in one of the most fantastic countries on earth.  It was worth it.

Nice to be back. 

Peace, Love, and ...

UPDATE:  Yep, I should have posted this almost two weeks ago when I wrote it, but my blogging mojo seems to be as anemic as I am, so everything is delayed.  Many mea culpas and I will try to be more diligent.

Used properly, Facebook is fun.  While it has become popular to blame all of society's ills on social networking, I blame people.  People who are going to screw up are going to do so regardless of the available technology.  There were people screwing up with smoke signals back in the day, and that just progressed through written notes, telephones, telegraphs, faxes, email, and Twitter, and MySpace.  No matter how people communicate, some of them are going to screw up.  So I don't blame Facebook.

I like Facebook because I am a congenital loner.  I don't do well in crowds, and while I really do need the company of humans, cats, and dogs, I also require a considerable amount of time to myself.  Facebook lets me keep in touch with people I like and care for, in short, manageable bursts.  It also lets me keep in touch with people I would otherwise have lost to time and fading memory, and that is where the fun comes in. 

This was posted by one of my friends from high school, who now lives in Ithaca.  That's a human peace sign, and I am crazy about it. 

I will be cooking today (Sunday) after a two week hiatus.  Although I had ground beef in mind, once I walked into Publix I saw Nice Pork Chops on sale, and with the help of my iPad and an app called "What's For Dinner" I gathered the ingredients for Rachael Ray's Spanish Pork Chops with Linguica Corn Stuffing and Cherry Rioja Gravy.  I have made this recipe before and it is quite delicious.

Monday I got to work on peeling and deveining two pounds of very fresh shrimp.  Took me an hour, but it was so worth it.  I made my shrimp scampi as usual, except first I brined the shrimp (for all of twenty minutes) and stirred a couple of tablespoons each of regular basil pesto and sundried tomato pesto (both from Classico) into the butter-olive oil-garlic sauce.  According to Rob, it is the best scampi he has ever eaten.  Whoa.  Talk about rich ... it's a good thing neither of us has a gall bladder any longer, or that scampi would have done us in (but we would have been smiling all the way to the emergency room.)

Happy Beginnings and Happy Endings

It has been that sort of week, fraught with drama, emergencies, and deadlines.  We are down to four attorneys this week (in a six attorney office), and still missing one paralegal (it has been months).  So nobody is filing their nails or indulging in long lunches.  Despite the never-ending work, the dead and dying elevators, and my head cold, I am happy.  Singing-in-the-car happy (apparently Lady Gaga and I sing in the same key.)

I was going to comment on the Dr. Phil interviews of Cindy and George Anthony, but I decided that none of them, including Dr. Phil, deserve any of my time.  Idiots.

I'm seeing a couple of books I want to read on Kindle.  Patricia Cornwell's Port Mortuary has reached a price I consider fair (I will not pay $14.99 for a Kindle book, even if I can read it on all of my electronic devices).  I also accidentally discovered a book by actor Michael Tucker, Family Meals: Coming Together to Care for an Aging Parent, that I think I want to read, as it addresses senile dementia.  I have been avoiding reading from my not-inconsiderable stash of hardcore murder mysteries lately, simply because I am not seeing the entertainment value in serial killer insanity or detailed descriptions of unspeakable torture.  I love those types of books, but sometimes I need the kinder, gentler murders described in the Golden Age Mysteries by Ellery Queen and Rex Stout.  Kindle versions of my beloved Ellery Queen remain few and far between, and I have read most of the Rex Stout novels currently available.  Still waiting for Ngaio Marsh and my favorite Heinleins to show up in Kindle format.  Hello, Amazon? 

I also have not been reading much these last few weeks because I am knitting.  Lots of knitting.  Knitting with a view, when I can steal a few minutes to gaze out the window of my office during a truncated lunch break.  Still working on the circular baby blanket and the baby surprise jacket.  They don't match and are not intended for the same recipient, but they are delightful to work on.

Good grief, Charlie Brown, it has been over a week since I drafted that incomplete lead off to a blog post that never occurred.  The baby blanket is completed, and so is the baby:  My Number One Niece gave birth to her daughter, Bailey Rose, on September 21, 2011.   Time for me to pull in the ends, sew in the zipper, wash and block and prepare for shipping.



We have been beyond busy in our office, and all of us are walking around looking like the walking wounded.  Our numbers are up, which is a sad commentary on human beings in general and parents in particular.  I was finally reduced to tears, but because they were happy tears, I want to share that story with you.

Yesterday I was privileged to attend an adoption.  The child is turning 18 on Sunday, but it was vitally important to him that this adoption take place while he was still legally a child.  The new father, who is a friend, a colleague, and a coworker, happens to be gay.  The child spent 5 years in our foster care system, and until a little less than a year ago, my friend would not have been able to adopt the child because of a retarded - and I use that word correctly - provision of Chapter 63, Florida Statutes. 

I am so proud and happy at so many different levels that I am having difficulty expressing it.  I am unable to go into the details of the work and worry that consumed a few of us as the eleventh hour approached, so I will thank all of you, and if you happen to read this, you know who you are.

I have not cooked anything worth blogging about in quite a while.  On the other hand, I did finish knitting the crumpled bath mat  manta ray  baby surprise jacket, and it is quite adorable and amazing.  I will put it away for the future, so that if I hit a knitting slump, I will still have something handmade to present.  Someone is always having babies, so it seems.

We have a lot of leftover Chinese food in the fridge - hey, we gotta eat, even when I don't cook - but I will have to spend some time in the kitchen tomorrow.  Maybe lasagna, maybe fish, maybe beef stew.  Inspiration, anyone?