One More Different, Smaller, and a Very Electronic Christmas 2022

This year we decided to stay in Southern California, for Christmas, in our trailer/cottage in Palm Springs. There were lots of factors in making the decision. Most of Doug's kids had other plans, or just didn't have time to travel the 8 hours down here from the Bay Area, and we thought Doug was going to have a second cataract operation on the 21st, but then he changed his mind. My kids are both back east, and we just planned to communicate a lot by FaceTime  especially when my new grand baby would be born. Doug's two sons and 2 of the grandkids promised to drive down on the day after Christmas, but that left us alone, together for Christmas, opening up a couple of gifts wrapped in Amazon packaging. 

It's a good thing that we put up our solar Christmas lights, because before Christmas, Covid raised its ugly head once again. First, Doug tested positive and I tried to not get it by insisting I isolate myself by masking around him and sleeping in the tiny bedroom at the end of the trailer part of our home, as instructed by the doctor. He confessed later, however, that it was a relief to him that I finally tested positive! I guess that's okay, since we both had mild cases. Besides, it was difficult to be so strict when we were in such a small space. My symptoms were mostly exhaustion, everything tasted like garlic, and I had heartburn and nausea. He had a little fever for a couple of days, a headache, and general malaise. We just self-isolated and were brought gifts of homemade sour dough bread, cookies, and even a huge package of toilet paper, (which we had gotten dangerously low on), from friends and neighbors.

I kept trying to force myself to finish up the annual family calendar I put together, and then when they came, I set up my Mom's old card table in the kitchen to gradually wrap them and any other gifts that I had to send out in the mail. When I finally tested negative, I went to the post office to get some priority mail boxes to pack up all the families' gifts and treats so I could come back to stand, masked, in a surprisingly short line to send them off.

We had bought each other gifts that we both wanted, even before Christmas. Doug did a thorough study of mobility scooters to buy, since he enjoyed the one we rented in DC a few months before, and he suggested I get an Apple Watch, so I would get credit for any steps I do.

The scooter came with a caveat that it would have to be stored in our parlour, in front of the wall where I usually compose my "wall tree". I was still tired from Covid, so it didn't take too much convincing for me to let that go. We went to the Angel View Thrift Shop and came home with a little 3 foot fake tree, and covered it heavily with solar lights, and ornaments, and put it in our bedroom. Thank goodness the solar lights are almost worn out. They only work for a few hours and then have a faint twinkle for the rest of the night, not keeping us up. It sits next to our little table with a minimalist creche on it. We added a couple of cute sheep to it this year. They're very cute. The bigger one looks over at the manger, and the baby one looks at us, as if to say, "Are you paying attention?"

Doug loves his little red "scooter", he bought it with the idea that it would encourage him to walk more, rather than less. When we start out, I ride in the scooter, while he walks with his cane, and after about a block and a half, we switch so I can get some steps in. We're in the habit now of doing our walk/ride a few blocks over to the market, or CVS, or to eat lunch at our favorite restaurant, Mario's. I've learned to switch my watch over to the workout mode to get credit for my exercise. It's getting ridiculous, how I'm trying to "close up all my rings" now. Before Christmas, when we both had Covid, my watch seemed very disappointed in me, sitting in my chair and reading or taking a nap, since it urges you to get up for a minute every hour during the day. It's training me pretty well, and I keep on increasing my daily goals. One night before bed, I confess that I went outside to walk a few more steps to close up the move ring!

On Christmas Eve morning, I baked a double batch of Toll House chocolate chip cookies with added pecans and tart dried Montmorency cherries to hand out to friends and neighbors in our mobile park. I put 3 or 4 cookies each in ZipLoc bags and placed them in a beautiful red bag that a friend made for me, and we looked very festive as we did our walk/ride routine all around the neighborhood and visited with all the happy recipients of the cookies. I told them, "If you're lucky, you might get a tart dried cherry in a bite", since the cherries were in short supply. The next day, some folks came up and excitedly said, "And I got a cherry in mine!" 

On Christmas Eve, we went to a beautiful mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe, and I got teary eyed as  a little girl in a pretty red dress reverently walked down the aisle with Father Robert, holding the baby Jesus on a cushion, so  she could lay him in his manger. Between all the sparkly lights, and the beautiful singing of our favorite cantor, who we have dubbed, "Sings Like An Angel" singing Ave Maria, our Christmas was just about complete. 

When we got out to the car though, Doug said, "I don't want to go home to left over Chinese food tonight. Not on Christmas Eve!" He wanted to go someplace special, and his first choice was closed. I suggested a local "dive" bar, a Palm Springs classic, Pete's Hideaway. When we first got there, it was almost empty, except for an older woman all dressed up in her holiday garb at the end of the bar. "She said, "Oh! You're finally here!",  to which I curtsied, and then she said, "Oh, I thought you were someone else." We sat at the bar and had a cocktail, and toasted to each other, and then all the people who had reservations started arriving, and a singer came to start singing his holiday songs with his guitar. We decided to stay and share a plate of their Italian stuffed pasta dinner. A lovely time after all. 

Our Advent wreath.

Earlier in the day, we had decided that we would join in with our neighbors for a Christmas morning potluck, so I had to come up with a dish to bring. I just had to buy another dozen eggs, and I revised a Christmas sausage and egg and cheese casserole that I found online, similar to one that is usually served at my sister Lorraine's house on Christmas morning.

We also were invited to Doug's second cousin Greg's and his wife Julie's home in Desert Hot Springs at two on Christmas Day, so we had to leave the brunch early, having tried to not stuff ourselves. We were happy to actually have family to visit with on this special holiday. The desert is becoming pretty popular for retirees. A couple of members of my own family have moved down here recently too. Maybe we'll get together with them next year.

The story goes on.... Doug's sons John and Matt and our granddaughters Ava and Resie drove down to visit on December 26th in time for a dinner of what has been dubbed "Harboghetti". Then we all opened gifts to each other, so that seemed even more like a complete Christmas. 

John's better at electronic things than us, so he helped us to hook up an upgraded version of Roku that is voice activated for our TV. I had also surprised Doug with an Alexa, another toy that is voice activated, which he was delighted with. (He actually looked like a little boy on Christmas morning with a new train set.) He didn't think I would get one, since I had pooh-poohed the idea. John had to help install Alexa too, and then she, (if there really IS an Alexa), was probably tearing her hair out at all the ridiculous questions she was being asked, but she still happily answered. 

The weather cleared up for them one day for a nice day at the pool, since it's been unusually cloudy and rainy here. 

Doug went out to ride in a golfcart with them while Matt and Ava golfed, and I stayed home with Resie. We took a little walk, and then worked together on constructing a Disney Lego project out on the patio, and we accomplished it! 

The next day, we put together a nice ham dinner, and we've all done a good job of working on the great supply of holiday cookies, candies and treats that everyone brought. We're thinking of not looking at the scale for a few days.

Everything's quiet now. Our company is on their way home and we're feeling rather drowsy. Tomorrow night is New Year's Eve. Here's to a wonderful, and especially Peaceful 2023. 

New grand baby Thea and Petie

Company in the Pool

Today I was a "golf widow", I suppose, since my husband went off to play a round and get some exercise. I decided that my exercise would be in the pool outside our condo in Tahoe. Not a soul was around, and I set myself up on a lounge chair with my supplies, a big hat, sunglasses, and my library book that I had 20 pages left to read. It was windy, about 61 degrees, but sunny, so I still felt warm enough. The idea was to lay in the sun for awhile before getting in the pool because the wind probably wouldn't let me afterward.

The book finished, I prolonged my lounge time by finishing a crossword puzzle I found in my pool bag. My mind tried to talk me out of even getting wet, but I pictured Doug coming home after walking the course and I'd feel bad if I hadn't done.... something. I spotted some flotsam floating around on the surface of the pool, so that gave me a sense of purpose. I could pump iron with my foam dumbbells AND clean the pool to make it nice for others.

As I climbed down the steps into the water, I spotted a pretty cream-colored maple leaf floating at the other end of the pool. As I made my toward it, I captured quite a few pine needles that had blown in, carefully rescued a bee that seemed grateful, since after I flicked him out he flew off in a second. I went backwards toward the maple leaf, kicking my way there, but when I reached the opposite end it was no where to be seen. Hmm. Oh well. It was time to move around a little, I used my Aquabells to do push-ups in the water, and then some shoot-throughs and some jumping jacks. I began to twirl around in the water, (my favorite), when I spotted the maple leaf floating right near my shoulder.

Rather than toss it out of the pool, I decided to look at it more closely. It was totally dry on top and it didn't have a stem. It also had a passenger.....a tiny reddish brown spider was holding completely still on the leaf. I was looking so closely that my breath hit it, and it moved a few steps in shock. "Don't go! Be my company", I pleaded, realizing that I was talking to a spider. He stayed, and happily rode along on his leaf, which  was collecting yellow pollen on its edges. I should take a picture of this, I thought, and planned to get out soon and dry myself off enough to handle my iPhone. I did a sort of bicycle move heading toward the other end, and I think because of the pumping up and down I did behind my back with the aquabells, I moved faster, and the leaf was propelled along side me. It actually passed me, so I tried to do the same movement in the opposite direction to make it follow me again. It didn't. It reached the wall, and turned left, the spider getting the ride of his life as it twirled along the edge. Finally it turned toward me, as I kept up my plunging movement. I thought I had better get out and get that picture while it was so close to the edge, since I was composing a story in my head, and what good is a story without a photo?  As I headed for the stairs to climb out, the creamy colored leaf kept moving in my direction, along the edge of the pool.

And then, to my surprise, SWOOSH! leaf and passenger were sucked in to the pool's drain on the side. It hadn't dawned on me. So no picture....but still a story.

I've Been Dreaming About Food Lately

In these last months of 2013, I've awoken with dreams in my head of different foods that I crave for the rest of the day. The only solution to getting them out of my mind is to let myself eat that food. The reason this becomes such a dramatic decision in my life, is that my husband and I have been "watching our weight" for over six years, counting calories and points.....sometimes losing. But for the last 6 months or so I've been watching my weight and my waistline increase. Therefore, denying myself baked goods has been a habit that I've accepted, and thought I didn't even care about.

Then came the dream about Angel Food Cake. At this point I don't even remember the dream, except that my Mom was baking the cake in her old kitchen from my childhood. As my alarm went off in the morning I could still smell the sweet aroma. The thought of the sponginess of the cake that I used to squeeze between my fingers when I was little became an obsession, and I bought a nice round one at the bakery. There was a farmers' market that day and they had the most luscious huge boysenberries and strawberries. I had a plan to satisfy my craving by sharing with grand kids that were scheduled to come over for a couple of hours.
Just when the first little one stated, "Grandma, I'm hungry!" I was ready with an answer... "Well, have you ever had Angel Food Cake?" She said," I Love Angel Food Cake!" "So do I!" Said the 3 year old, (even though I'm not sure he'd ever tasted it.)
I had already cut up the strawberries and stirred in some sugar, and they and the sugared boysenberries were put in separate red glass bowls. The kids helped me put it all on the table,  and it was a free-for-all as everyone had a slice of the plain, but luscious cake, covered with berries and covered with whipped cream squirted from a container. "I need more whipped cream on mine. I can still see a strawberry over here!" Seconds were had by some, and it was so satisfying, and not that bad for a lunch at Grandma's.

A few nights later I dreamt of my mother- and father-in-law, (Tutu and Grandpa), in their old apartment in Richmond, baking sugar cookies together. they made the best, lightest and most crispy sugar cookies ever. They made the dough, and then formed 1 inch balls with it, rolled the balls in a bowl of sugar, and squished the ball flat with the bottom of a glass that had also been dipped in sugar. Then they sprinkled even more sugar on top before baking. We all remember them working together as a friendly team in the kitchen. They were called "Helen Z's Sugar Cookies", and I used to have the recipe written in Tutu's handwriting, in my recipe file. Soon after breakfast, I was disappointed to not find it there, but found what was probably the same one in my "Joy of Cooking" book. (see Sugar Drop Cookies with Oil).
Once again giving in to my craving, I took a trip to Trader Joe's to buy some fresh flour and sugar. This was a real commitment to baking something. My mouth was starting to water at the thought of a cup of coffee with one of those cookies. Then I spotted semi-sweet chocolate chunks, a substitute for chocolate chips. I remember how everyone used to love my chocolate chip cookies that I made when I was a teenager. I vowed to make both of these cookies before the year is up.... only when there are plenty of people to share them with...... just so I could get my fill.
When I got home, it turned out that one granddaughter was visiting, so I thought I'd use this as a grandmotherly thing to do, and invited her to help me. Sometimes it seems that events like this can be rather nerve wracking for me. Standing on a chair next to the counter, the five year old kept insisting on pouring each measured ingredient into the bowl herself. I set the the bowl down in to the sink to minimize mess. She stirred the flour and made designs in it before slapping the spoon into it so it poofed all over. She proved to my amazement, though that she knew how to crack an egg. Her cookie dough balls kept growing in size and were re-dipped into the sugar extra times. When it came time to sprinkle the extra sugar on the cookies, I found some red and green colored sugar to make it look Christmasy. Before I knew it, the sprinkling turned out to be more of a "dump". I could hear myself being kind of anal about "we have to make sure that all this sugar doesn't stay on the pan... it might burn.... look I'll just brush it off". Bad Grandma. The first batch of cookies actually came out great. I felt I needed alone time though, so I had her hang some ornaments on the tree and do an art project while I kept cranking out more pan fulls.

One other morning, I awoke thinking about a wonderful sweet bread that my manager used to bring in to share with everyone. I had spotted the Mexican bakery some time ago, where "Senorita Bread" is their specialty, The Star Bakery in San Pablo, CA. While out doing last minute things for Christmas, I told my husband I was having another craving. We agreed to get it over with and joined people in line waiting for the next batch to come out of the oven. The aroma was heavenly. Senorita Bread is sold in boxes, the smallest having 15 pieces. We decided that was enough for our household. Each piece of hot, soft, leavened white bread is covered with butter and sugar. I think there is even a piece of butter inside each little bread that continues to melt, making the tiny loaves at the bottom extra buttery and sugary. Oh, I love it so! There is a warning to each buyer that the bread is very hot, don't eat it in the car, since melted butter might get on your clothes. We heeded the warning and waited to share this luscious, vein-clogging treat at home. Just two or three for me, and I checked that temptation off my list.

Yesterday, we had a "little Christmas" for one of the families who were out of town and didn't get to open their gifts yet. I had yet to make my chocolate chunk cookies. Time was running out. It's already December 30, and I saw this as a good opportunity to let everyone get fat with me. The secret of my old recipe is that I use Crisco shortening instead of butter. The old Toll House recipe on the chocolate chip package back in the 60's called for that. Butter, which is now recommended, just doesn't do the trick, and everyone always liked mine best.
When everyone arrived, the house smelled wonderful, with the fresh cookies and the scent of the Christmas tree. The semi-sweet chocolate chunks were a treat, since they provided more dense chocolate. Then my husband said, how about giving your secret recipe away? I did, but I kind of wish I hadn't, since I swear I could read their minds about hydrogenated fats and preservatives. Oh well, we all agreed. They taste yummy, and we don't eat like this everyday.

So now I'm in training for the New Year of 2014. The "My Fitness Pal" app on my iPhone has been notified of my new weight. It's a nice app that helps you count calories and how much exercise you've done, and shares your progress with other friends that are using it. And, did I mention? It's free! I can hardly wait to input that we'll be going to our aquatic fitness class on Thursday!
Now that my cravings have been sated, I'm ready for my usual manic first week of the year. I'll pamper myself this year with good health and creativity. How about you?

Moon Over My Waistline

Today I thought of a silver haired lady that we used to see gardening outside her apartment house in El Cerrito. The corner was a busy one, and most times she'd be there taking really good care of her hedges with an old-fashioned hedge clipper. Unfortunately, more often than not, when she bent over, her loosely banded sweatpants revealed her butt crack. I thought, "She must know that she is flashing everyone who is  sitting, waiting for the  light", but year after year she kept putting in her time on her corner lot, mooning everyone who passed.

Unfortunately, the reason I thought of the lady, (she, I'm sure is no longer with us), was because when I was gardening today, I think I resembled her. We had just dug all the weeds out of our raised bed, and chucked them into a couple of piles. I wheeled the green bin the city gives us on to the sidewalk, and started bending over repeatedly to pick up the weeds and chuck them over the rock wall into the bin. My pants have had a harder and harder time remaining on my so-called waist of late. It was the end of the day, and this was the last thing I had to do. I was tired of hitching up my pants, and I'm sure I may have flashed someone! (Well, there wasn't anyone around, but if they had been there, they would have been flashed.)

This whole observation may seem silly, but I found out the other day, why my pants don't stay on my waist..... I  took my measurements. Without confessing the actual data, suffice it to say that my chest measurement was only ONE INCH MORE than my waist OR my hips! This was an eye opener. Something to be dealt with.

We HAVE just come back from a vacation, but this isn't anything new. Sitting with a laptop on the bed and watching TV, and being less active has an effect on our bellies. Our bellies are also important for our back health, as I've been told by my physical therapist, and I have known, but not paid attention.

So, with instructions that I have been given for exercises, a regime that has been suggested to me for cleansing toxins, I'm on a mission to be healthier in my retirement. My mission is to not have to hitch up my pants every 5 minutes while gardening.

In the meantime however, I'm going to drag out my old pair of overalls...