Early Christmas Cheer

We generally wait till mid-December to put up our Christmas tree, giving ourselves a little more time to hang on to that mellow Thanksgiving tryptophan state of mind.


But one of our local characters always puts together a funky little holiday display, reminding me that it's time to make lists, address Christmas cards, plan upcoming festivities, and wrap and mail gifts . . .

And speaking of gifts ( WARNING! Blatant commercial plea follows) . . . what about introducing a friend to Elizabeth Goodweather? Easy on the budget, easy to wrap, easy to mail . . .

Of course you can find her on Amazon but over there to the right are links to three booksellers who can provide autographed (even personalized, if you wish) copies of the Elizabeth Goodweather Appalachian Mysteries.

If mysteries aren't your cup of tea, there are other books that would fill the void in someone's stocking -- I've mentioned some goodies in the past couple years.

As you've probably heard, booksellers and the publishing industry are having a tough time of it these days, along with so many other enterprises. Though we usually make most of our gifts (well, for the past few years, it's been John who's taken over that task, busying away in his wood shop,) I still spend some dollars at my local booksellers, picking out what I hope will be just the right book for certain friends and family.

Of course there are lots of troubled retailers -- and I wasn't one of the patriotic souls out there last Friday, spending to help put one of the big box businesses in the black.

Maybe book stores are redundant now -- with the Internet and E-books and such -- but to me, the independent bookstore is one of the last bastions of a truly civilized way of life. Here's a place where you can browse and find something more than the same few big names -- maybe you're looking for something regional, something quirky, something unexpected -- whatever your interest, you can count on booksellers who can help you. Booksellers who read their wares, booksellers who actually like books. . .

Imagine that!



I'll be signing (and buying) books in one such bastion this week. If you're in the Asheville area, stop by Malaprops on Friday the 4th, between 5 and 6. I'll be there, happy to sign and personalize for you. Or to point you to some good reads in which I have no financial interest.

Okay, commercial over.

The End of November

First snow on the distant Blue Ridge Mountains a few days ago . . . herald of sights yet to come . . .

. . . when once again we can trace the beauty of a tree's framework . . .

. . . and, like children, delight in waking to new-fallen snow.

Pioneer Woman comes to Texas!

One of my favorite bloggers ever, The Pioneer Woman, is coming to Texas on her book tour!

She's famous in the Blogosphere for her amazing photos, funny stories & incredible cooking.

And has now released a cookbook!!

I had the immense pleasure of interviewing Ree a while back.

Right below, see the design on the T-shirts she's handing out at the book signings.

I want one!!

I really want one!

I must have one!!

She's giving away one on her site today!

This Tuesday, I will be at her book signing, provided the bookstore isn't overrun  by her mob of fans.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

7:00 PM

BORDERS

10720 Preston Road

Dallas, TX

I think she goes on to Austin next.

BAD-ASS BUGS

Our friend Donnie Joe takes the occasional photograph of the local fauna. Here are a few of his latest:



This little guy reminds me of Boris, who built an enormous web in the ivy alongside our driveway a few years ago.



Manny the Mantis.



A chipmunk. I can’t see one of these little guys without thinking of the Austin Blown-Star Blodgemeet.



A fire ant.

Those fire ants are tiny, but they pack a wallop in their sting. Imagine, then, what it would be like to run across one of these:


Red Velvet Ant, AKA “Cow Killer.” Image courtesy Adventures in Furryland.

You’re looking at a Red Velvet Ant, which is actually not an ant at all, but a flightless wasp.

The first time I ever saw one of these in the wild, it was in Texas. Of course: Everything’s bigger in Texas, including the bugs. Roaches, wasps, you name it - they’re all humongous.

It looked like an ant, all right - the biggest honkin’ ant you could ever imagine, almost an inch long and covered in bright red velvety hair. I almost shit myself. Ants grow this big? Was it a Queen Ant of some kind? Gaaaaahhh!

A little research established that I had happened upon a Red Velvet Ant. Normal size, nothing special. The females can deliver a mighty sting, thus giving rise to the nickname “Cow Killer” - although it’s a matter of speculation whether they ever actually manage to sting, much less kill, any cows.

As scary as these critters are, though, they don’t fly. Unlike, say, the Cicada Killer Hornet. Yeah, I’ve seen those motherfuckers in Texas, too. Think of your average hornet... then multiply its size by about a factor of five. Yep: a hornet the size of your thumb, with the females bearing a nasty-looking stinger. Checkit:


Cicada Killer, qu’est-ce que c’est?


Photo courtesy Salt the Sandbox.

They’re really not as horrible as they look - despite their humongousness, these wasps are (supposedly) not especially aggressive toward humans. But if you’re a cicada, watch out. These hornets will sting you into paralytic submission, after which they will lay their eggs in you, following which you will be devoured from within by the growing wasp larvae. Yeef, whatta way to go.


Get this frickin’ thing offa me! (Photo courtesy PlantAnswers.com)

Cockroaches, as huge as they grow ’em in warm, moist climes like coastal Texas, Louisiana, and south Florida, may be disgusting, but at least they’re not scary. Cicada Killer Hornets? Red Velvet Ants? That’s another story.

Oh, and here’s one of my own pics:



Hoppity Hopper, here shown next to a quarter for scale. Alas, he wasn’t particularly lively when he posed for this shot. I suspect he was dead.

Strange things I've learned while on Twitter

I'm on Twitter a lot more now than I used to be.

(I'm TexasRhea)

Why?

Because I am helping the companies I work for Tweet:

United Credit Source

Total Score Repair

Elite Debt Management

And I've started "following" some interesting Twitterers.

NASA - I followed their recent Atlantis Shuttle mission to the Space Station and then it's landing.

I learned from ZAPPOS CEO Tony Hsieh that "Did u know if u put a raisin in a glass of champagne, it will go up&down continuously? This has been our entertainment tonight."

I learned about Mystery Google, where you get what the person before you was searching for.

Cue scary, laughing manequin!

Have you learned anything interesting on Twitter?

Do you follow anyone famous?  Or infamous?

Salads?

This is the cranberry gelatin salad (recipe below) that I made for Thanksgiving dinner. It's my grandmother's recipe and was always part of her Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners.

I almost didn't make it -- though it doesn't actually include Jell-O, there's still something a little odd about calling it a salad -- it seems so dated.

But I did make it -- and then forgot to bring it out till dessert time. (Freudian slip? Maybe.)

The thing is, where this "salad" comes into its own is at supper Thanksgiving night -- when you're really still full of rich food but you feel like a little something or other. And this combination of cool cranberry and pineapple, suspended in gelatin and crunchy with chopped celery and pecans, really hits the spot. Almost like health food after the dissipation of the big meal.

My grandmother served it with homemade mayonnaise -- possibly this is a Southern thing. I know my daughter-in-law from New York state was kind of appalled the first time she saw this. And I mostly omit it these days. But it's really tasty -- as long as the mayo is good and lemony.

I grew up eating a number of weird combinations that were called salads -- shredded carrots and raisins with mayo, canned pineapple with cottage cheese ... and mayo, Jell-O squares with canned fruit cocktail hidden in their depths... and mayo, a frozen square composed of fruit cocktail, whipped cream and mayo. All of these things included a leaf of iceberg lettuce as a base -- which I guess justified their being called salad.

Those were the days for wild invention -- the notorious Candlestick Salad was touted as fun for kids to make -- the banana as candle with a cherry or strawberry as flame and whipped cream standing in for melted wax. It was also suggested as a nice item for ladies' luncheons. But best not to serve it to gentlemen, one cookbook warned, as the fellas might make indelicate comments.

I wonder why?

Ba's Cranberry Holiday Salad

2 Tbs. plain gelatin
1/2 c. cold water
1 c. boiling water
1 Tbs. sugar
1 tsp. salt
1/4 c. lemon juice
1 c. crushed canned pineapple, drained
1 1/2 c. whole berry cranberry sauce
1c. finely chopped celery
1/2 c. chopped pecans

Soak gelatin in cold water 10 minutes to soften. Pour in boiling water to dissolve. Add sugar, salt, lemon juice, and pineapple. Allow to cool but not congeal. Stir in cranberry sauce, celery, and pecans. Pour into mold thatt has been rinsed with cold water and not dried. Chill till firm. Serves 8.

TOTSTOSTERONE

No, it’s not a typo.

According to SWMBO, totstosterone is the hormone that makes grown men act like little boys.

We were driving along a few days ago and, as usual, I was busily amusing myself by making up silly song lyrics, producing disgusting noises, and indulging in any number of forms of Childish Behavior. Hey: It’s what I do. And that’s when She Who Must Be Obeyed had a flash of insight. An epiphany.

There had to be a physicochemical explanation... preferably one involving Big Words. And what better explanation than totstosterone... a hormone that, in males, is in all-too-good supply? (Plus, it’s a Big Word.)

Totstosterone. It’s what makes a Hugh Grant - happily married to a gorgeous woman - go get a blow job from a random crack whore. It’s why a guy will sit in a box seat at the opera... happily picking his nose. It explains most sports, along with institutions like NASCAR and Hooters.

When you’re on a hot date and your witty conversation is punctuated by attempts to crack up your dinner companion by making fart noises, you may be suffering from a surplus of totstosterone.

Alas, there is no cure. Don’t ask me how I know this.

My Furry Nephew is in Town!

My little sister, her husband and their furry child, Hollis are in town for Thanksgiving!!

 

And Annie has had fun, playing with her furry cousin!

 

 

 

He's hilarious and adorable.

 

Grab a camera and a critter and join Camera Critters!

The Yellow Rose

It was one of three bare root roses I bought at a local discount store -- three for ten dollars. And the wrapping showed a beautiful deep pink rose. So I planted it at the foot of our front steps by the greenhouse door -- where I could look out the window by my kitchen sink and enjoy its lovely pink blooms. Only it turned out to be yellow.

But from its first bud in mid-May to its last bloom on Thanksgiving day, the yellow rose has performed valiantly and I've been unable to resist snapping its picture over and over again.

On Thursday the full-blown rose greeted our Thanksgiving guests as they arrived. Then, as evening fell, a high wind got up and stripped all but two forlorn petals from that last lingering bloom . . .

... so that our guests had a petal-strewn path for their departure. How elegant!

I still prefer pink roses -- but this particular yellow rose has won my heart.

FUN WITH COHERENT LIGHT

Bruce Springsteen once sang about being “Blinded by the Light,” but Hakuna is merely fascinated by it.

I speak of the Elusive Laser Mouse. Elderly dowager that she is, Hakuna reverts to kittenhood when its red glow flits and flicks across the expanse of carpet. On occasion, she will even go so far as to chase it downstairs, where her frantic slipping and sliding on the hardwood floor provides moments of amusement for her Human Companions.



Update: Friday Ark #271 is up at the Modulator... and Carnival of the Cats #298 is available for your Kitty Viewing Pleasure at When Cats Attack. Enjoy!

HONESTY IN EULOGY

This morning, She Who Must Be Obeyed drew my attention to an obituary in the AJC - what Denny calls the “Atlanta Urinal and Constipation.”

SWMBO reads the obits every day. She figures that if she doesn’t see her name there, she’s OK.

“Check this out,” she said. “This reads like something from Speaker for the Dead!” The reference was to Orson Scott Card’s novel, a sequel to his immensely popular Ender’s Game. Speaker for the Dead is a thoughtful and brilliantly-drawn story in which the titular character speaks at people’s funerals, revealing their real essence as human beings, warts and all. A Speaker delivers not a mere eulogy, but a complete deconstruction of a person’s life... and not all of it is pretty.

And so, when she saw this death notice for one John Fedesky, it really got her attention:

JOHN WALTER FEDESKY, 56, of Atlanta, died November 9 of cancer of the brain and esophagus. John was a truly colorful character. He had all the habits of Southern politeness, but suffered from a lifelong mental illness... After his father died in 1967, John, only 14, reacted by participating in the drug culture which helped to trigger his schizophrenia. The resulting damage affected him the remainder of his life. It was many years before doctors had available the optimum combination of drugs for his mental illness without the side effects that had caused him to reject them...

...John was baptized in the Church of Christ in 1971 and from then on studied the Bible devotedly for the rest of his life. He wanted to be either a minister or missionary or President of the United States. He spoke to almost everyone around him. For those who had income, he incessantly asked for money, but his notion of necessities were often considered by the donors as luxuries, and the relationships always eroded. For those with no income, he was generous with whatever he happened to have at the moment. He was unable to earn a living most of his life...

Ya gotta admit, it has the ring of honesty. Not a lot of lily-gilding going on here. And amidst a page full of puff pieces about the local Good Ol’ Boys who went to church regularly, were president of their local Kiwanis or Rotary Club, and who went to their reward surrounded by a small army of loving children, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and Second Cousins, the End Story for Mr. Fedesky stands out like a polo pony at a NASCAR event.

FRIDAY RANDOM TEN - BLACK FRIDAY EDITION

Today is not only Friday, it is Black Friday - the semi-official start of the Christmas shopping season, the day on which massive retail sales will fill corporate ledgers with black ink. At least, so hope the retailers.

[I say semi-official mainly because the Christmas season seems to begin earlier every year. The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade used to serve as a sort of starting gun to the festivities (it’s almost more of an Advance Christmas Day Parade), but now that seems to have been pushed back to Hallowe’en.]

We’re sitting here at Chez Elisson, comfortably bloated after yesterday’s festivities. The fridge is packed with leftovers, the counter stacked with pies. And it’s time once again to see what sort of Random Choonage my Little White Choon-Box will disgorge.

Let’s check out what’s playing today, shall we?

1. Jungle Boogie - Kool & the Gang
   
   
2. Act III: When I Woke Up - John Adams, Nixon in China
   
   
3. Sirba Matey Matey - The Klezmatics
   
   
4. In Dust We Trust - Chemical Brothers
   
   
5. Tones for Joan’s Bones - Chick Corea
   
   
6. Sports & Wine - Ben Folds Five
   
   
7. Does This Bus Stop at 82nd Street? - Bruce Springsteen
   
   Hey, bus driver, keep the change
   Bless your children, give them names,
   Don’t trust men who walk with canes
   Drink this and you’ll grow wings on your feet
   Broadway Mary, Joan Fontaine
   Advertiser on a downtown train
   Christmas crier bustin’ cane, he’s in love again.
   
   Where dock worker’s dreams mix with Panther’s schemes to someday own the rodeo
   Tainted women in Vistavision perform for out-of-state kids at the late show.
   
   Wizard imps and sweat sock pimps
   Interstellar mongrel nymphs
   Rex said that lady left him limp -
   Love’s like that (sure it is).
   Queen of diamonds, ace of spades
   Newly discovered lovers of the Everglades
   They take out a full page ad in the trades
   To announce their arrival
   And Mary Lou she found out how to cope
   She rides to heaven on a gyroscope
   The Daily News asks her for the dope
   She says “Man, the dope’s that there’s still hope.”
   
   Señorita, Spanish rose
   Wipes her eyes and blows her nose
   Uptown in Harlem she throws a rose
   To some lucky young matador.
   
   
8. I’m Willin’ - SeaTrain
   
   
9. Rikki Don’t Lose That Number - Steely Dan
   
   
10. Get Your Hands Off My Woman - Ben Folds
    
    

It’s Friday. What are you listening to?

Three Thanksgivings

Our Thanksgivings tend to follow a bit of a routine -- up early to get the turkey in the oven and scurry around cleaning and such so that we can be ready by noon to relax with a Bloody Mary and listen to the local radio station's broadcast (also a tradition) of Arlo Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant Massacree," a song I loved when it was new in 1967 and which seems sadly appropriate now, forty-two years later. (Had to check the math on that -- has it really been that long? And who is that white-haired old lady in my mirror?)

In past years we've had a full house for Thanksgiving. In 2007, my brother was here, as were Claui's folks and our friends the Langsners with their daughter Naomi and her friend Matt. And of course, Ethan and Aileen (my older son and his wife) were here. We turned the dining room table lengthwise and added another to it to have room for all.

Last year it was the same cast of characters, minus my brother, but we decided to string together tables down the middle of the living room to avoid crowding.

This year's gathering was small -- Ethan and Aileen are in their new home in Atlanta and still settling in, Claui and her parents have gone to Arkansas to be with her sister, and my brother, who just visited, declined to stretch his stay into Thanksgiving. So we were seven -- and we all fit into the dining room.

Despite another oven malfunction (the turkey had to finish cooking on the grill and the sweet potatoes that were meant to be roasted ended up sauteed,) it was an excellent feast. We honored tradition -- but gave it some new twists.

Louise made some wonderfully exotic befores to accompany my usual turkey liver pate, as well as a gingery cranberry sauce. Naomi and Matt brought an amazing assortment of cheeses and Justin made the sweet potatoes. I'll share the menu below. (For my friends in the UK -- our crackers don't come with party hats -- they are what I think you would call savory biscuits,)

Bloody Marys
Turkey liver pate
Marinated cauliflower
Cucumber and grape salsa with mint and fennel
Miso and walnut pesto
Rice crackers
Smoked almonds

Turkey basted with butter, red currant jelly, orange juice, and mustard
Dressing with celery, apples, and onions
Gravy
Cranberry sauce
Cranberry sauce with ginger
Green beans with pecans
Sweet potatoes sauteed in garlic oil garnished with fried sage leaves
Green salad
Cranberry gelatin salad with celery, pineapple, and pecans
Champagne

Frozen pumpkin mousse in a pecan crust
Assorted cheeses
Crackers
Grapes
Port, Coffee, Glen Rothes single malt Scotch

My Non-Thanksgiving Post

While it IS Thanksgiving for most of America...it is NOT Thanksgiving quite yet for me.

We are celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow.

Why?

Because my sister, her husband and my furry nephew don't fly in until later today.

and because my boys aren't due back from Austin until tomorrow.

So, as I read all this turkey talk on Facebook & Twitter today, I'm jealous...and hungry.

Here's the Thanksgiving sky today in north Texas:

Here's an early pumpkin pie that is slightly creative and artistic looking:

And the silverware my mom is polishing in preparation for tomorrow:

But, just know this.

Tomorrow is MY Thanksgiving, and I'm going to enjoy the heck out of it.