Something new: Please check out the new link at the upper left-hand corner of the blog, titled "The Place to Discuss Inspiration Nation." Click on the link and you will be magically (ha!) transported to Inspiration Nation at Delphi:
Because Delphi is designed for discussion forums (fora, yes thank you grammar police) it is much more user-friendly when it comes to back-and-forth chatting and interaction. You have to sign up, but it is free and painless. It's especially good if you want to get into a discussion on a hot topic that really doesn't belong on Facebook. The comment section for this blog is not really amenable for that kind of discussion, although you are always welcome to leave a comment.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled program:
I try to take a walk everyday, and today, the sky was so very blue and the sun so warm without excess humidity that I happily veered off my regular path. I could not help noticing that the crape myrtles are in bloom and love is in the air. Make that love bugs, in the air, in your face, all over the front bumper of your car. Welcome to September in Central Florida, the beginning of the very best weather we have to offer.
Well, Google finally came through, but now my garden is giving me the business. My daily harvests have become laughable; particularly the okra is just sitting there, refusing to grow to a measly one-inch length. The okra bush is displaying a vast multitude of baby okra, but they are all premature. Mocking me with their unfulfilled promise of gumbo-worthy vegetation.
Inspiration Nation at Delphi Is Up and Running: How It All Works
Announcement
Welcome to the Delphi adjunct to Inspiration Nation. I've been on Delphi since 1999, and always liked the relative ease of having a real conversation. My blog is over on Google, and each day I post an article that usually includes a recipe. Most of the recipes are original, but if not, I'll let you know and post a link. I plan to post a link to the daily blog post in the (surprise!) Daily Blog Post discussion. I will also post the recipe, in its entirety (but without all of the photos) in the Daily Recipe discussion. So, if anyone wants to discuss something I brought up in the blog, or if there is a question about a recipe, or if you just want to make a comment, this is the place to do it. If you like to cook, there are already hundreds of recipes on the Inspiration Nation blog which can be reached by going to any daily blog post link. Welcome!
Because Delphi is designed for discussion forums (fora, yes thank you grammar police) it is much more user-friendly when it comes to back-and-forth chatting and interaction. You have to sign up, but it is free and painless. It's especially good if you want to get into a discussion on a hot topic that really doesn't belong on Facebook. The comment section for this blog is not really amenable for that kind of discussion, although you are always welcome to leave a comment.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled program:
I try to take a walk everyday, and today, the sky was so very blue and the sun so warm without excess humidity that I happily veered off my regular path. I could not help noticing that the crape myrtles are in bloom and love is in the air. Make that love bugs, in the air, in your face, all over the front bumper of your car. Welcome to September in Central Florida, the beginning of the very best weather we have to offer.
Well, Google finally came through, but now my garden is giving me the business. My daily harvests have become laughable; particularly the okra is just sitting there, refusing to grow to a measly one-inch length. The okra bush is displaying a vast multitude of baby okra, but they are all premature. Mocking me with their unfulfilled promise of gumbo-worthy vegetation.
Donald Trump pledged allegiance to the Republican Party, and Kim Davis, the frice-married Kentucky county clerk who decided the law did not apply to her, is spending her first few hours in jail. Now let's see if her deputies start issuing those marriage licenses. Update: Yes they will, all but her son. What is it with county clerks and nepotism? Our county clerk here in Osceola has had his own share of misadventures, dutifully reported by the press, but unlike the hapless Ms. Davis, he embraced the marriage equality law as soon as it hit Florida. Not only did he issue marriage licenses to gay couples but he cheerfully started performing their marriage ceremonies at 12:01 AM of the day same-sex marriage became legal here. Whatever else his faults, Mr. Ramirez appears to be a hopeless romantic and a proponent of equal rights, not a bad combination.
I have not brought up the tragedy of Aylan Abdul, the little boy who perished trying to cross to safety with his family, in a very unsafe raft. I turn away from the photo which is now being shown by the media. I have no answers to the migrant problem, which is widespread thanks to the neverending terrorist attacks in the Middle East and adjacent region. The world is held thrall by ISIS and the president blows it off. Plays golf. Travels to Alaska to rename a mountain with a perfectly good name. Declares climate change the greatest danger we are facing. All he needs now is a fiddle and a blow torch. Don't get me started. The rest of the world's leaders are not much better. I said not to get me started. Thank you.
Sports news: my favorite Western Conference team, the L.A. Clippers, have finished hiring EVERYBODY. The wildest free agent season ever! Woot woot, Doc Rivers, for gettin' the band back together.
Today was supposed to be Clam Cake Day, thanks to Nero Wolfe and the Viking Press. It certainly can't be Gumbo Day, because my okra plant has gotten downright nasty to me, and the okra available for sale in Publix is unfortunately too big and too woody to be eaten, at least in my house where Okra Aficianados abound. But even the clam cakes didn't happen - too many errands, not enough time. and - wait for it - my back hurts.
Yesterday, I bathed two of our doggies while the boys were out. Although they are small, and get washed in the kitchen sink, it is still a major production (you do know that I am talking about the dogs here?). Three shampooings and a conditioning. Repeatedly rinsing, soaping, combing out knots, snipping the ones that are resistant to combing. Clearing out drain traps 3 different times - these are Yorkies, and they shed hair like humans. Which I can't allow to get into my ancient kitchen pipes unless I want to call Josephine the Plumber yet again. Blow-drying. Chelsea hates the blow drier. Oy. All on my feet, and I always pay for that sort of abuse. And so I am and will ever be. Fibromyalgia - just me and my shadow. Of course it did not help that I was up most of thenight with Chelsea out of fear for her breathing, which sounded seriously bad. And then there were the soap bubbles coming out of her nostrils long after the bath was over. No sleep ... no clam cakes. She's fine now; me not so much.
A very happy birthday (September 4) to my nephew Eric, the first baby I ever diapered. He's 39 now, and I may have embarrassed him. Sorry. Eric is the oldest son of my college roommate Kathy; he's got a good job, a great wife, and two terrific kids. He coaches the soccer team and brews his own beer. I am proud to call him my nephew even though we're not related, technically speaking. But only technically.
Have a good day everyone.
I have not brought up the tragedy of Aylan Abdul, the little boy who perished trying to cross to safety with his family, in a very unsafe raft. I turn away from the photo which is now being shown by the media. I have no answers to the migrant problem, which is widespread thanks to the neverending terrorist attacks in the Middle East and adjacent region. The world is held thrall by ISIS and the president blows it off. Plays golf. Travels to Alaska to rename a mountain with a perfectly good name. Declares climate change the greatest danger we are facing. All he needs now is a fiddle and a blow torch. Don't get me started. The rest of the world's leaders are not much better. I said not to get me started. Thank you.
Sports news: my favorite Western Conference team, the L.A. Clippers, have finished hiring EVERYBODY. The wildest free agent season ever! Woot woot, Doc Rivers, for gettin' the band back together.
Today was supposed to be Clam Cake Day, thanks to Nero Wolfe and the Viking Press. It certainly can't be Gumbo Day, because my okra plant has gotten downright nasty to me, and the okra available for sale in Publix is unfortunately too big and too woody to be eaten, at least in my house where Okra Aficianados abound. But even the clam cakes didn't happen - too many errands, not enough time. and - wait for it - my back hurts.
Yesterday, I bathed two of our doggies while the boys were out. Although they are small, and get washed in the kitchen sink, it is still a major production (you do know that I am talking about the dogs here?). Three shampooings and a conditioning. Repeatedly rinsing, soaping, combing out knots, snipping the ones that are resistant to combing. Clearing out drain traps 3 different times - these are Yorkies, and they shed hair like humans. Which I can't allow to get into my ancient kitchen pipes unless I want to call Josephine the Plumber yet again. Blow-drying. Chelsea hates the blow drier. Oy. All on my feet, and I always pay for that sort of abuse. And so I am and will ever be. Fibromyalgia - just me and my shadow. Of course it did not help that I was up most of thenight with Chelsea out of fear for her breathing, which sounded seriously bad. And then there were the soap bubbles coming out of her nostrils long after the bath was over. No sleep ... no clam cakes. She's fine now; me not so much.
A very happy birthday (September 4) to my nephew Eric, the first baby I ever diapered. He's 39 now, and I may have embarrassed him. Sorry. Eric is the oldest son of my college roommate Kathy; he's got a good job, a great wife, and two terrific kids. He coaches the soccer team and brews his own beer. I am proud to call him my nephew even though we're not related, technically speaking. But only technically.
Have a good day everyone.
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