“I Look Deep Inside . . .”
We were at one of those official dinners, and, as is my habit, I found someone even more shy than I am and started asking questions. It’s an old trick; it gets me through the most endless affair. She turned out to be very smart, very witty and entertaining, this Nigerian woman, so elegant, so well-mannered. We were having a great conversation.
“So what do you do in Kuwait?” I asked, almost yawning, I was so ashamed of myself for asking such a boring, common question.
She paused, looking at me like she was measuring me.
“I look deep within people, and I tell them things about themselves they never knew,” she responded.
“Oh no!” I thought to myself, “is she some kind of fortune-teller?” (Fortune tellers are strictly forbidden in my religion.) I’m usually pretty good with the old poker-face, but my eyes probably shifted, looking quickly for a polite exit.
She watched me, her eyes twinkling, grinning like a fisherman with a live one on the hook.
“I’m a radiologist,” she added, and we both cracked up. She really had me: baited me, caught me, hooked me good, and then did the old catch-and-release.
Through the Eyes of AdventureMan
I’ve had some really smart friends in my life, and sometimes, those who are really really smart get confused about normal everyday things.
We had a wonderful friend, Bill. His wife was a high school teacher, and when he saw the sign “Aim High – Air Force!” on Ramstein Air Force Base, he said “Look, sweetie, there’s the high school!”
Another time, on Mother’s Day, we were sitting in church with Bill and his wife and my husband said to Bill “I really like your new Land’s End jacket!” and Bill said “How did you know it was from Land’s End?” and my husband said “Because you still have the label on the cuff.” We were all still crying from laughing so hard when the priest glared at the four of us (troublemakers!) as he processed down the aisle.
AdventureMan is a lot like that. He thinks differently. Driving along the Gulf Road the other day, he said “You wouldn’t think there was enough demand for models here that they would have a special school.”
Then he said “what’s up with that?”
We both started laughing, because to us, it looks like something called an “entrenchment tool” or shovel, and we use them when camping to make a temporary toilet, so it’s not exactly something we would mount on the back of our truck, all gleaming and shiny. But we may be thinking differently, and there may be a really good reason this is done that we don’t know about, so if any of you know why it would be a good idea to mount a shiny shovel, please share!
The other night AdventureMan couldn’t get his at-home wireless connection to work, he’d been trying for several nights and couldn’t get a signal. I moved the stack of books and papers directly behind his laptop, between him and the router, and voila! instant wireless connection. He is a really really really smart man, but just has a little problem with the small things. 😉
(He always looks to see if I have mentioned him in the blog)
Having Sisters Make People Happy
This is from todays BBC Health News; you can read the entire article by clicking on the blue type.
(Here’s to you, Sparkle and Big Diamond! I am so glad I have you for sisters!)
Sisters spread happiness while brothers breed distress, experts believe.
Researchers quizzed 571 people aged 17 to 25 about their lives and found those who grew up with sisters were more likely to be happy and balanced.
The Ulster University team said having daughters in a family made people more open and willing to discuss feelings.
They said the influence of girls was particularly important after distressing family events such as marital break-ups.
. . .
Lead researcher Professor Tony Cassidy said:”Sisters appear to encourage more open communication and cohesion in families.
“However, brothers seemed to have the alternative effect.
“Emotional expression is fundamental to good psychological health and having sisters promotes this in families.”
Pecan Pie Muffins
A friend brought these to a meeting the other day. She made them in these really small tins, so one muffin was like three bites. They were SO rich, three bites was enough. . . . except that we couldn’t eat just one, they were SO delicious. Just five ingredients . . . a piece of cake!
Pecan Pie Muffins
SUBMITTED BY: prissycatÂ
Allrecipes.com
“It’s hard to believe there are only five ingredients in these wonderful little muffins! The brown sugar makes them taste like pecan pie.”
Original recipe yield 18 mini muffins
INGREDIENTS
• 1 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup chopped pecans
• 2/3 cup butter, softened
• 2 eggs, beaten
DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour 18 mini muffin cups or line with paper muffin liners.
2. In a medium bowl, stir together brown sugar, flour and pecans. In a separate bowl beat the butter and eggs together until smooth, stir into the dry ingredients just until combined. Spoon the batter into the prepared muffin cups. Cups should be about 2/3 full.
3. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 20 to 25 minutes. Cool on wire racks when done.
He he he – I challenge you. Try to eat just one!
The REAL French Aioli Sauce
My beautiful French friend looked at me sadly, considering how to deliver the bad news in the most gracious way possible.
“Yes, Intlxpatr, it is a very delicious garlic mayonnaise, but . . . it is NOT aioli,” she said, regretfully honoring France and all of French tradition. “The real aioli uses potato, and has a totally different texture from this mayonnaise.”
Back a long time ago, I published instructions for making your own mayonnaise, aioli and rouille and it has been one of my all time high statistics grabbers. How embarrasing to be so wrong!
But I am not alone. This morning as I went looking for “real” French aioli, it wasn’t until page 3 I found this recipe, which sounds very close to what I remember eating down in Les Leques, as we stayed in a family hotel on the beach and ate breakfast and dinner with all the French families. Aioli is both the name of a dish – a white fish, usually cod, served with vegetables and a huge bowl of garlic sauce – and also the name of the sauce itself. We adore both.
Here is the recipe I found for REAL French aioli found in a recipe site called Big Oven:
INGREDIENTS
6 Cloves garlic; peeled
1/2 c Pine nuts
3 Potatoes-boiled; peeled
1 Juice of a lemon
1/4 c Olive oil
1 Egg; lightly beaten
INSTRUCTIONS
Combine the garlic and the nuts in a blender or food processor and puree.
Add the potatoes, and puree.
Pour potato mixture into a bowl and, using a wisk, beat in the lemon juice, a bit at a time.
Gradually add the olive oil in a thin stream while continuing to beat so oil combines with potato mixture. When oil has been absorbed, add the egg and beat well.
Giovanni de Bourbon
Most of the other recipes that sound the most authentic start with garlic crushed in a mortar and pestle, ground together with salt, then the oil added drop by drop until a thick mixture is obtained. Those are the basics – where to go from there seems to be evolving away from the original Provencal recipes.
Barbara Nadel: The Ottoman Cage
I got the recommendation for this book from Little Diamond; we have a long family tradition of trading books back and forth, my sisters, our children, even my mother; we are all sending books and exchanging suggestions all the time. I know I can count on Little Diamond and Sparkle for particularly good recommendations, and they never disappoint me.
When The Ottoman Cage arrived, I was put off by the cover. “Who’s Likely to Like This?” the cover asked – it seemed like screaming to me – “Fans of Donna Leon and exotic, atmospheric locales”
Remember, I am in a dark time, taxes, turbulence, destabilization. . . I am easily disgruntled when I am vulnerable like this. I don’t want to think I am so predictable. I love reading Donna Leon! So I am predisposed (grumble grumble grumble) NOT to like Barbara Nadel.
I fail miserably. The first five pages I am resisting. By the sixth page, I am ready to stay up all night to read this book (I don’t really, but I did finding myself making more time to read so I could find out what happens next.)
It is like the Donna Leon series in that while the plot is original and interesting, the real focus is on the police inspector, his crew, the relationships with friends and characters, the bureaucracy, and the way systems and institutions function in modern day Turkey.
One particular relationship was of great interest to me, that of Suleyman, who dutifully married his first cousin. They both tried very hard to make it work, but when we meet him, we discover that the marriage has become a painfully dry and desolate place, where each lead their individual lives, with very little of the relationship together.
Another character is detective Cohen, a rare Jew in the police force described as follows:
When one has been known and admired as a prolific womanizer for most of one’s adult life, any change in that situation can come rather hard. Although Cohen had been married since the age of nineteen, he had never let that fact or indeed his rather short stature and dishevelled apearance hold him back from the most ardent pursuit of other women. Jokey charm, of which he possessed copious amounts, had always seen him through. The knowledge that women love a man who can make them laugh had successfully taken him to many bedrooms and had, quite frequently, resulted in his being asked back again. Until this year.
Whether it was because now he was on the ‘wrong’ sied of forty five or just a patch of ill fortune, Cohen didn’t know but the fact was beyond dispute. Women, it seemed, didn’t want him any more. The rbuffs and even in one notable case the cruel sound of mocking laughter were hideously painful for him to bear. Even his long-suffering wife, who had for so many years pleaded with him to leave other women alone and attend to her, had lost interest. He’d tried to find a little comfort in her arms the previous night when he found that he couldn’t sleep, but she, like all the lithe little girls that he still so desired, had just sent him on his way, back to his customary couch, flinging her curses in his unfaithful wake.
It was, Cohen would have been the first to admit, his own fault. Had he bothered to try and be faithful to Estelle he would now, in his middle years, have both a friend and a over with whom he could take comfort as the lines overwhelmed his face and the loose skin around his middle began to sag. His wife was, after all, ageing like himself and, unlike the pretty little tarts he hankered after, unable to point mocking fingers at his inadequacies.
The plot hinges on a dead boy, a beautiful boy, found dead, alone, on a bed in an empty, tasteful but unlived in home. Who is he? Why is he here? Why is he dead?
We meet the gossipy neighbors, we meet the Armenian community, we meet some of the lowest characters you would ever hope to meet, the kind the police deal with every single day. Nothing is simple, one single clue leads slowly, painfully to another. I give credit to Nadel; she relies on good honest police work, chasing down the clues, going through the stacks of old files, interviewing unsavory lowlifes; the things good police really do to solve their cases.
More than the plot, I loved the rich and intricate textures of this mystery novel, I loved the descriptions of the interiors and the interior lives of the characters. Nadel has that in common with the other writers I read serially – Leon, Pattison, Qiu Xiaolon, James Burke and Peter Bowen. It is another rich entry into the genre of the “mystery novel set in exotic, atmospheric locations.”
Definitely worth a read!
“I’m Melting! I’m Melting!”
At our church this weekend, our priest was making a point, using water, and he sprinkled various members of the congregation, to a series of “eeeeekks!”
I was reminded of several years ago – we had bought a new house, and our church has a special ceremony of blessing for a residence. As the priest carefully points out, he/she is not actually blessing the house, but blessing the inhabitants – nonetheless, every room has a special prayer, and the priest sprinkles a little holy water in each room.
more animals
As he sprinkled the water in one room, some hit my youngest sister, Sparkle. I watched her struggle not to do it, but she couldn’t resist.
“Ohhhh, I’m melting, I’m melting!” she cried out, like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz.
Thank God, the priest was a good friend. He paused, looked at me and said “she is YOUR sister?” I nodded. He sighed, before continuing, and said “why am I not surprised?”
Dewey: The Small-Town Library Cat Who Touched the World
I’ll admit it, I was looking for a quick read, and after resisting this book for months, I picked it up. As much as I love cats, I am not that much into cute, nor am I particularly sentimental, and I don’t like having my emotions manipulated. Just one look at the adorable cat on the cover told me it was going to be one of those slick, fairly superficial feel-good kind of books.
See what I mean? Just look at that cover. Look how that cat just looks right into your eyes. This book is going to suck you in.
This book was a surprise. Yes, it was touching. Yes, it was about a tiny little kitten who almost died, stuffed in a below freezing book-return box in an northern Iowa country library in the middle of one of the coldest nights of the year, and yes, he ends up living in the library for almost 20 years and brightening the life of the people who come into the library. Yes, Dewey is adorable, and funny, and loveable. Yes, the book is an easy read.
It is also, surprisingly, an uncomfortable read. It is not overly sentimentalized. It is also the story of a woman, Vicky Myron, who grew up on one of the northern Iowa farms, and she tells us about the quality of a life that is no longer available in America, how the safe, secure, intertwined family life of rural Iowa has greatly disappeared. The hard times we are working our way through in 2009 is an echo of hard times suffered in rural America, as small farms are gobbled up by the more efficient super-farms, owned by conglomerates, not by families.
She tells us about her physical struggles with a disastrous childbirth, and its two year aftermath, and she tells us about how her marriage to a lovable alcoholic died, almost without her being aware it was dying. She doesn’t spare herself, as she discusses her problems, as a single mother, on welfare, trying to get a college education and raising her daughter, who couldn’t wait to move away from her. She talks about her challenges remodeling an old cement reading library into a modern, airy information resources center serving the town and the surrounding community, at the same time she is working on her Masters in Library Science. She describes her challenges dealing with the town bureaucracy. It is not always comfortable, or feel-good reading. It takes the book out of the superficial, and gives you something to think about.
Intertwined in all of this is Dewey Readmore Books, the cat who comes to live in the Spencer, Iowa, library, and who is eventually featured on TV shows around the world. He responds to requests that he pose, that he perform, he seems to know who needs a little love and is quick to give it – he is a great main character. For me, some of it was also uncomfortable, kind of a stretch – like that the cat would be in the window waving to her every morning when she came to work. Well . . . maybe . . . I’ve almost always had cats in my life, and few have every shown such consistent loyalty. Cats are . . . well, cats. It’s the way God made them. 😉
What I love is that this book is about libraries, and the amazing (mostly) women who run them. These librarians have had a huge influence on my life, and the life of AdventureMan, challenging us to explore outside our boundaries and supporting our aspirations, recommending new ideas and new ways of serving their communities. Librarians are part of the backbone of America.
I read this book in just a few hours. It just isn’t that complicated or challenging; it is an easy read. It has been a #1 New York Times bestseller, and copies of the book are still selling strongly. It currently ranks #105 in all time book sales on Amazon.com – can you imagine how many books that must be? The book is sweet, but #1? I can only imagine so many people are buying and reading it because it looks like 1) a Feel-Good book and 2) an easy read.
Words Strung Together in New Ways
I have a wonderful friend – she speaks English fluently, but it is her second language. Every now and then, she will say something that gives me a grin. It’s not because what she say is funny, but because I truly love language and words, and she strings words together in new ways, and when you put words together in new ways, you think new thoughts.
The first was Christmas “wrath”. She caught me totally by surprise. I knew what she meant, Christmas wreath, but the image of Christmas wrath totally caught my imagination. Holidays are volatile. Christmas wrath happens. I imagine Ramadan wrath happens, and Eid wrath. I think I laughed, not because I would ever make fun of her – I wouldn’t. After all, we are speaking English, not French, and I know how amusing the French find it when I speak French. This woman is way ahead of me.
Yesterday, she mentioned having a “pitch” in her stomach. I couldn’t help it. I grinned. She knew immediately, and asked, so I told her that we say “pit” but the truth is – when things are out of control and your stomach registers fear, it is as likely to pitch as it is to have a pit. I love the imagery.
Forgive me if I grin when you (very rarely) use the wrong word. I am not mocking you. I am smiling in delight at the new way you have put words together, that give me images I would not otherwise have had. And I look forward to all the future occasions when you will delight me with new concepts, new words strung together. 🙂
Romantic Getaway in Doha
AdventureMan whisked me away to Doha for a weekend, to visit friends and the new Islamic Museum. There is a new boutique hotel in the restored market area, the Hotel Souk Waqif – and this area is THE place to be at night. The hotel is only 17 exquisite rooms, beautifully furnished, great customer service, and has promotional rates going right now at the best time of the year to visit. It is surrounded by great restaurants, and has great views in three directions. The rooms are lush and richly furnished.
Update: The website for the Souk Waqif Hotel is up and running here: Hotel Souq Waqif
View from hotel 1
View 3 from hotel
This sign always cracks me up – in a parking lot near Electricity Street (Sharaa Kharaba)
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