Doha Debates and Where Are You From?
The Baked Salmon Dijon for last night’s dinner took a little longer to cook because Joe Patti’s cuts the salmon steaks so thick (we cook two, split one and freeze the other for another night), so while I was waiting, I flipped around and found WSRE’s Doha Debate coverage.
Who knew?
I didn’t know I could still watch the debates in Pensacola! This one was about whether or not Egypt should postpone elections in the interest of forming a more representative democracy. The vote was 84% in favor; the two young supporters carried the house. 🙂 This was the March debate and you can hear the entire 48 minutes by clicking here.
The winning female debater used a slogan I had not heard, but I love, because it is graphic and memorable – “we do not want a fast-food democracy that brings only indigestion.” The younger debaters want to scrap the entire constitution and re-write it, claiming the current structure needs to be thoroughly revised in order for democracy to have a chance of success.
I love it that these issues have a forum for debate in Doha.
Following the debate was a cringe-worthy video about asking people where they are from. His point was that when he is asked where he is from, and he answers ‘The Bronx,’ people say “No, where are you REALLY from?’ and the implication is racist. He says it is the same as saying that his color is darker, therefore he is not like us, so he must not be from around here.
I’ve asked that question. Never meant it to be insulting, but I will stop now. Or I will only ask those with a slight accent, maybe. Wherever we have lived, we have been asked that question – but then, in Kuwait and Qatar, most of the work force is not Qattari or Kuwaiti. Even in Germany, however, where we might look a lot like them, we are asked where we are from. It used to be a courteous way of showing interest, or initiating a conversation.
One time in Doha, a local man asked me about my breeding, LOL. I told him I was a product of the American melting pot, and from the earliest settlers to the latest, my family includes just about a little of everything. We were at the veterinarian’s office, and I knew the purity of his dog’s blood lines mattered, and probably his own, but I also felt a little insulted, and I haven’t forgotten it. Doesn’t science teach us that diversity in blood lines is a good thing?
We are in the middle of a heat spell in Pensacola, early this year, and because we haven’t gotten anywhere near the normal rainfall, there are also wildfires. The firefighters are struggling to put out the fires, and also fighting heat exhaustion. AdventureMan is out watering all our new plantings, and our tomatoes, every morning, God bless him, because when the temperatures go high, I just want to stay inside.
Baked Salmon Dijon
We took separate cars to water aerobics this morning as my computer kept telling me I didn’t have an aircard (?????) and AdventureMan had his own errands to run. First, though, I had to make a run to Joe Pattis to pick up some salmon steaks . . . I have a yearning for Baked Salmon Dijon.
So easy to prepare. So good!
Baked Dijon Salmon
Serves 4
Ingredients
• 1/4 cup butter, melted
• 3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 1 1/2 tablespoons honey
• 1/4 cup dry bread crumbs
• 1/4 cup finely chopped pecans
• 4 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
• 4 (4 ounce) fillets salmon
• salt and pepper to taste
• 1 lemon, for garnish
Directions
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C).
2. In a small bowl, stir together butter, mustard, and honey. Set aside. In another bowl, mix together bread crumbs, pecans, and parsley.
3. Brush each salmon fillet lightly with honey mustard mixture, and sprinkle the tops of the fillets with the bread crumb mixture.
4. Bake salmon 12 to 15 minutes in the preheated oven, or until it flakes easily with a fork. Season with salt and pepper, and garnish with a wedge of lemon.
This recipe, like many of the recipes I try comes from allrecipes.com, which sends me an e-mail every day with recipes I might like to try. At least once a week there is something of interest.
Once at the Geek Squad, my computer worked just fine. He mentioned sometimes an aging router can play tricks like that. Oh aaargh. I’m just glad everything is working fine for now. It’s all a mystery to me, why these computers work sometimes and sometimes they don’t, it’s all like smoke and mirrors, or magic.
Very Long Lunar Eclipse June 15
I found this on AOL news/ Huffington post where the article goes on to say that weather permitting, those in the Middle East have a good chance of experiencing the entire eclipse, which will be longer than most lunar eclipses.
LOS ANGELES — The year’s first total eclipse of the moon will last an unusually long time, a rare celestial treat for a wide swath of the globe.
Except if you’re in the United States and Canada. North America will be left out of Wednesday’s lunar spectacle, which will be visible from start to finish from eastern Africa, central Asia, the Middle East and western Australia – weather permitting.
The period when Earth’s shadow completely blocks the moon – known as totality – will last a whopping 1 hour and 40 minutes. The last time the moon was covered for this long was in July 2000, when it lasted 7 minutes longer than that.
You can read the rest of the article HERE
Atlanta: Ethiopian Adventure and Macy’s
One last entry from our recent trip, a happy ending to a happy trip. This is how sweet my husband is to me.
We find Pensacola a very comfortable place to be, and have only found two things lacking. There is no Macy’s, and I do like Macy’s. There are no Ethiopian restaurants, (remember, I just read Cutting for Stone) and we like Ethiopian food. We know Atlanta has both, so we plotted our return trip with a just-enough-time-for-Ethiopian-food-and-shopping.
Isn’t life funny and wonderful? We know Atlanta has Ethiopian restaurants – several – because an almost-niece who has worked in Ethiopia lives in Atlanta, and could recommend several. Using the handy iPhone, we found a Marriott Residence Inn hidden away in a quiet neighborhood near Macy’s and not far from the Queen of Sheba. Although the hotel was full, they had a wonderful room for us, with a view of downtown Atlanta:
We found the phone number for the Queen of Sheba, called – and they were open for lunch!
When we got to the plaza where the Queen of Sheba was located, we just laughed. We were back in Kuwait!
And here is what the Queen of Sheba looks like from the outside:
Inside, daytime, the atmosphere is serene:
Nights and weekends, they have jazz and lively evenings:
We ordered the Vegetarian mix, a variety of Ethiopian vegetable/legume based dishes, a variety of tastes and heat, served on Injera, the large, pancake-like bread. When it came, it was beautiful, and it tasted as good as it looked. They gave us a tray of extra injera, and we ate almost all of it!
It was so good. SO good. We decided we would go back for dinner, after shopping. AdventureMan took me to Macy’s, and only called me twice in the hours I was looking and trying on.
Here’s the problem. I have a style, but I am terrified someone is going to recommend me for What Not to Wear, so I try to find a couple little things now and then to update my look. I have a tactic: take armsfull of clothes into the dressing room. Try on quickly. You usually can tell immediately.
Here is what you hear. “No.” “Oh, NO!” “No” “No” “No” “Hmmm, maybe” “no” “Holy Smokes, NO!” “Hmmm, maybe” etc. Then I try on the maybes, and out of twenty or thirty items, I might come out with one or two. Some young styles are just too young, some skirts just too short, some camis just too revealing. I don’t want to be one of those pathetic older women trying to be hot, I just want to look decently attractive, that’s the goal.
Meeting up hours later with AdventureMan (I know, I know, I owe him big time for this) we laugh to discover we are neither of us hungry for dinner. We decide to go back to the hotel, but dinner time comes and we are still so full from lunch that we can’t consider dinner. Even though the dishes were vegetarian, that injera must have swelled in our bellies. We can’t eat another bite!
A Different Kind of Sadly Hilarious
I was just checking if there might be anything on TV tonight worth watching, and I got caught watching – in horror and fascination – Rock Pop and Do-Wop, on National Public Television.
Horrified – because these 60’s and 70’s bands are playing to full concert houses full of people who look OLD like my parents – oh wait – they look like me! Horrors! The music still makes me feel like a teenager! All these people in the audience are looking like true believers, singing along with the songs, getting up and dancing, like they can’t resist the music. No dignity! They are acting like teenagers! Horrors! I still know all the words, even to songs I don’t even remember any more, once they play the first few notes, I know all the words!
Hilarious, because these acts have to strain a little to hit all the notes, but most of them have had eye-lifts, and some of them can even still dance. They can still rock the songs, and they are totally wowing the audience. The hair styles – so awful they are almost cool again. It’s just wrong to have OLD people singing these young love songs.
Poison Ivy! One Fine Day! Blue Moon! I Only Have Eyes for You! Step-by-Step! This Magic Moment! Only You! Twilight Time! The Great Pretender! (Holy Smokes!The audience is going crazy!)
The costumes – oh my heavens. I remember when my high school BF was in a band and my father was horrified by his turquoise blue band jacket, and now . . . I can sort of see what he meant. Pretty awful, but oh – what fun. I remember the fights over whether we should be listening to this music, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the bad boys of rock. They all look so innocent a hundred years later.
There is a part of me that is still 12 years old, listening to this music, and there is a part of me watching me watch the program that is horrified at my fascination.
Sadly Hilarious
Peaches, sweet, juicy peaches are coming into season, and I couldn’t resist making up a peach crisp for a lunch I am giving today. Since I was making one, I made several, some smaller ones to give away. Dropped one off with a friend, then went by to see our son and his wife and Baby Q, the Happy Baby.
As I walked in, Happy Baby came running, screeching happy sounds, so happy to see . . . me? No, he ran right by me, did not want my hug, he was looking for AdventureMan. As I stood with my arms open to hug him, he was desperately looking out the window, looking for the fun guy who really matters. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; I wanted that hug all for myself, but it is truly hilarious how much he loves AdventureMan, and how he watched and watched and watched out the window, hoping he was coming, too. The longer he watched, the funnier it got.
Later in the evening, we both went by, so Happy Baby got some time with his “Ga Ga”and then, guess what, I also got my hug once he had had his special time with his Grandpa. 🙂
Dancing and Drinks
Yesterday was our 38 year wedding anniversary, and it was a great day. Last night, we went for dancing and drinks.
LOL.
Our dance class at the YMCA . . . and this month we started the waltz, which we already know how to do, but now we are learning some extras, like turns. It is barely air conditioned in the gym, if at all, so dancing is EXERCISE in the heat we are experiencing – record highs – this year.
And drinks – don’t McDonald’s smoothies count? I totally love the Wild Berry, and I try to tell myself it might even be healthy, it might even have berries, and I try not to think about the sugar. It is only now and then I have one, AdventureMan too, so our anniversary was celebrated in style. Our style, LOL, not exactly the high life, but it works for us.
The Church Brew Pub and Downtown Pittsburgh
Now this is courage. In a strange town, one set of friends says they know a great place for lunch, and we need to come through this tunnel to come out for a great view of Pittsburgh. And, they volunteer to be the lead drivers. That takes courage.
It all went beautifully. We made all the right entrances and exits, and while our route was a little eccentric, so as to take advantage of a particular view, we got where we intended to go, wooo hoooo.
Here are some views of downtown Pittsburgh:
Our goal for lunch was the Church Brew Works, where these friends had eaten a few days before with our Doha-Pittsburgh friends.
It’s an old Catholic church, de-consecrated, de-sanctified, now a restaurant and micro-brewery.
Here’s what you see when you enter:
Here’s brewery works, in the old Sanctuary:
Here’s the indoor dining area:
And here is where you can eat outside, in the hops garden, with a feel a lot like Germany:
This is the bar area and souvenier sales:
The food was pretty good, not particularly memorable, but that is often the case where the setting takes precedence over everything else. One set of friends had the beer sampler, which they shared: 🙂
It was another of those great days. It didn’t matter where we went or what we ate, what mattered was doing it together.
Meds
I’m going to be one of those cantankerous people who gripe about their medications. I have one friend, God bless her, who when I was feeling depressed because I was going to have to take a daily medication said “You’ve managed to put it off this long??” She always knows just what to say. Somehow, I guess I had hoped for a miracle, I was going to be a person who never had to take anything. It hurt my pride more than anything else to be told that I might live as long, but the quality of my life could be dramatically effected. That made an impression on me.
As retired military, we can get some medications for ‘free.’ So last week, when my prescription had about five pills left, I called in for a refill. It was all automated, so there was no one I could talk with, and the automated voice told me my refill would be ready for pick-up today. Meanwhile, I had five pills, and seven nights to get through.
The next day I went to the Navy Hospital, where the clerk told me that they gave me seven days worth of my medication to get me through to when I could pick up.
This morning, we got there early, 8:30, and it wasn’t open until nine, so we did some commissary shopping, then went back – only forty minutes later, but the line was 19 people long, people older than me, standing in line outside in temperatures in the 90’s (F) and steamy. Almost every other person had a problem. “Sir, we don’t even see your name in the system” they say to one. “Sir, your medication just came in; there was a shortage and we won’t have it ready for you for another couple hours.” “Sir, that medication isn’t available, can you come back in two weeks?”
When my turn came, they told me my prescription had already been refilled, and I could not get another refill until the end of the month. Indeed, when I looked at the bottle the hospital had given me, it was a full refill, but I didn’t know that.
To get this free medication is a lot of work. For only a small amount more, we can have it mailed to our home address. I am thinking that might work better for me.
Listmaker
“Why are you smiling?” AdventureMan asked as he read the Sunday paper on our bed, the ceiling fan whirling madly to cool him down after his post-Church yard work – feeding the birds, shoveling up all the birdseed hulls, putting recycle materials into the compost bin.
I was doing something I do only rarely, changing purses. At the last minute, all in navy, I decided to do the navy purse instead of the tan. Now, back home, I was re-transfering all the important things, and checking pockets for stuff that accumulates and needs to be thrown away.
“I found a list,” I began. “It says:
fruit cake
kick board
book
peanut brittle
photos in frames
calendar
soap”
He laughed. “I know exactly what that was, “he remembered, “my Christmas box.”
More specifically, my tag on the outside of the box reminding me of what was inside when I had to affix a customs tag to send the box to hubby in Kuwait. These days, as I send boxes, I (mostly) no longer have to fiddle with customs tags or leaving the box open until I get to the post office so that customs officers can affirm what I included in the box. Every time I send a box, still, I think of those customs tags and give thanks not to have to do those irksome little steps.
I keep my lists now, in a folder marked, predictably,
-
To Do Lists
This one goes in there. On days when I feel bad about myself, or overwhelmed, I can look at my to-do lists and have a record that my time was not mis-spent. I can see all the little chores and fix-it projects we have finished, all the dinners we have done, house guests we have had . . . These little to-do lists keep track of the little things you do that take up so much time, and then at the end of the year, you ask yourself “where did the time go.” These help me know that I didn’t waste the time, I used the time, a little here, a little there, to bring order out of chaos in our daily existence, to brighten a life, maybe to help others, or to meet a goal I have already forgotten.
Some of the lists, like the moving lists, remind me of God’s gracious hand in helping me to do the things I’ve had to do, and could never have managed without his help. When I read some of them, I almost laugh out loud thinking “I did all that??”
It also reminds me how very happy I am to have AdventureMan back home with me, not far away at Christmas time. 🙂
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