Sunday, August 13, 2017

"Honor is not ..."

The following quote attributed to Herbert Hoover popped up on my IFTTT email feed of daily quotes.  My initial read offered an underlying sense of discord.  Why is it that what he said and what he most likely meant are like two trains on the same track running in opposite directions.

"Honor is not the exclusive property of any political party."

My assumption is that Mr. Hoover most likely meant that any [one] political party did not have Honor exclusively.  Unfortunately Mr. Hoover's use of a seeming Orwellian twist of phrase leaves rise to a much more sinister result.  He suggests that Honor is not the only property of any political party.  As we have seen in current politics each party, not being held exclusively by the property of Honor, has taken the liberty to use any and all nefarious tricks available to them to reach their desired ends.

Herbert Clark Hoover (August 10, 1874 – October 20, 1964) was an American politician who served as the 31st President of the United States from 1929 to 1933 during the Great Depression. ( Herbert Hoover - Wikipedia )

Saturday, June 10, 2017

The Obit Ritual

Idle curiosity
slowing down in life traffic
to rubber neck
sightseeing the posted
accounts of issues and accidents

Morbid curiosity
fine sieve filtering
each salient detail
grasping for correlations
between the moment and the future

Mortal curiosity
soleful recollections
of cherished shared memories
embracing the comforts
of our anticipated passing

(Cross posted to 2Voices)

Friday, May 12, 2017

Learning new Scampi

I have developed a fondness for America's Test Kitchen.  Clear and concise recipes and techniques bring new found nuance to my culinary skill set.

Served in the Hoover Bowls
Prior to the Seafood Supper episode my limited understanding of Shrimp Scampi was just that, "limited".  I would have ended up with rubbery shrimp in a broken butter sauce.  Then Elle Simone opened my eyes.

Because I was prepping for just B and myself we took a few liberties with the recipe.  Using 12 ounces of  "Extra Large" (26-30 per pound) means more bite-sized shrimp per serving.   Reducing the 3-2-1 ration of salt, sugar and water to 3 cups of water, 2 teaspoons of salt and 1 teaspoon of sugar worked just right.  Turns out we should have reduced the red pepper flake by about two thirds as well.

This version of Shrimp Scampi can very easily stand on its own merits.  Not being one to leave well enough alone I pushed the envelope.  Exercising the absolute luxury of adding just the tips of Asparagus in the last couple of minutes of finishing the shrimp and sauce added the green compliment that I am always looking for.

Then, as if that were not enough, adding in Buitoni's Linquine Pasta to complete the meal.  Let me rave about this pasta for just a moment.  Buitoni Pasta and Sauces are most often found in or close to the Dairy section.  There is good reason for this.  This is fresh pasta, not dried or frozen.  This pasta cooks very, very quickly.  This pasta is light, flavorful and has so much integrity that it even does well the next day, refrigerated of course.  Bellissimo!

I am not Facebook

The depth of my depression and the height of my anxiety regarding the current state of our union has gone from outrageous to nearly debilitating.  My faith in government is non-existent.  My faith in our political system is shaken to its very core.  Even my long standing belief that society will right itself and steer a moral course has been called into question.

Initially I expressed my frustration on Facebook.  I railed against our current president believing that adding my echo to the cacophonous outrage of the multitudes [would in some way make a difference].  Then I began to notice two distinct things.  The cacophonous outrage of the multitudes was just that, 'sound and fury signifying nothing.'  Moreover, Facebook was no longer fulfilling.  Each visit left me just that much more empty, dissatisfied.

So here I am.  Sitting alone.  Feeling better for having gotten that off my chest.

Moving forward... (never straight).

. . .