Saturday, September 26, 2009

Oeufs en Gelée

From his usual spot at the foot of the bed, in the left corner, the cat lifted his head made eye contact with me and blinked twice. I laid my book down (Julia and Julie, turning out to be quite a disappointment after a wonderful movie and a marvelous "My life in France" read)and listened.

A strong wind is blowing in from the west. At first I thought it was my husband, fallen asleep watching the UK-Florida game (as equally disappointing as the Julie/Julia book) stumbling around seeking the bath room in a semi-conscious state. "Joe!" I called out then remembering the last timecatching him only moments before he confused the front door with the door to the bathroom, the cat and I rushed to the living room.

He was safely and peacefully sleeping through the trouncing.

I opened the front door and the cat and I stepped outside. A brilliant half moon lit up half the sky, the other half shrouded with the hastening rain clouds. The wind bringing dry brittle leaves to dance at our feet, the weeping willow tree across the street throwing her long arms up in and down, around and around in a frenzied gyration.

The humidity that I have been living with for months and months blown away to the east. Autumn is making her entrance.

The cat refuses to come back in.

I sit down at the computer and write this post and think about Julia Child and the horrible description of aspic and wonder why anyone would want to eat cold jellied chicken when you can have luscious pan fried chicken with white gravy......

The dishes call, the cat remains outside, the book lies on the bed waiting to be taken back up and Joe talks in his sleep.......

Friday, September 25, 2009

Ticked Off

The bookcase hugged the whole wall with the aisles holding several more. Ah, the wonderful aroma of old musty books at the Goodwill. I began to touch the spines while quickly reading the titles and moving down the row when my fingers found "Kentucky Hospitality". My interest was piqued and I pulled it down. Pay dirt! A 1976 recipe book, sans cover, but filled with stories about making hooch in the "hills" and Mint Juleps in the parlor. $2.99 - a bargain!

Further down the same bookshelf I found another discarded jewel, the Farm Journal's Country Cooking, 1959 - also sans cover, but at $2.99 I had to have it.

I was distracted by a couple in one of the aisles with a baby nestled in one of those carriers. I smiled as I heard them laughing softly and as I turned to get a better look at the baby my smile froze.

That couple were working together, one pulling books from the shelves and the other hitting them with one of those ISBN scanner guns. The hair on my neck practically stood on end.

My impression is that these are not book lovers seeking treasure, but treasure seekers only. I shuddered and began to quickly scan the books working diligently before they hit that wall.

Christ, I don't know why it aggravated me so. They are only trying to make a living off of true book collectors. Maybe beginning a college fund for the baby. Yet, something is so wrong about that picture!

Later on I picked up a book, The Golden Key, published in 1976 - a reissue from the 1967 first edition with new reproductions of the pictures. It was small and appeared as if it had sat unattended and unread, untouched for a very long time ending up as junk at the Goodwill. The spine was a dingy color, different from the dust jacket. I liked the illustrations and I especially like the words of J.R.R. Tolkien on the inside book jacket. No ISBN. 50 cents. I added it to the small pile in my arms.

When I got home I felt compelled to look up the value of the book on Abe's Books.


I chuckled when I imagined them picking it up and putting it down unexamined because it did not have a visible ISBN.

Suckers! That smile returned to my face.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Murder Most Foul

My husband is laying in bed recovering from a horrific bout of food poisoning! Upon my arrival home last evening from a grueling four hours of customer service, I found him - well, ill. Very ill.

It was the shrimp. I made Etouffe and left the shrimp on the counter for him - it was out for maybe four hours, only four hours.

The horror. The horror.

I feel very bad. He will live. A trip to the hospital was un-necessary, thank God!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

It's All So Blase

If I do not start writing I may stop forever.

I have been on-line journaling for near six years. I first heard of on-line diary's from reading a book called Why Girls are Weird and found I am shattered to see that she is no longer writing her journal (diary) and it is unavailable.

Anyway, that is how this began. I explored the genre and suddenly there was AOL and their journals and the rest is history.

I am not really burnt out. I just feel that I am lost and floundering and my voice is weak.

I also do not travel in a car much anymore. All my greatest and best thought rose from the murky waters of semi consciousness while doing windshield time.

The occasional thought does percolate to the top now and then.

Like what ever happened to