HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Happy Halloween one and all - go easy on the candy corn!

(I've already been through two bags of them this year. Bruuup!)

This spooky asterism is Arp 272, colliding galaxies 450 million light year away. Even that fact is spooky. I like to collect some of the more spectacular pictures that come from NASA's Astronomy Picture of the Day   This one is from September 11, 2011.  The one below is from September 11, 2018. If you're like me and really don't love unenclosed heights, this picture is scary too.

The Troll's Tongue - where else but Norway.

And just think, you too can go there if you care to hike for ten or eleven hours. It's become a popular place for pictures. It gets so crowded there that the Norwegian government is thinking of controlling access. It's uncanny, the lengths folks will go to for a selfie.

STAYIN' CLOSE TO HOME

This past week we watched a rerun of the PBS show This Week in South Carolina. It was a show from this past January, telling about the state’s new driver’s license that is a “Real ID.” Evidently, South Carolina was one of the states that was not as thorough as the others in vetting the people to whom it gave a driver’s license. The national security powers decided that as of a certain date, those licenses couldn’t be used as personal identification to board a plane or even to get into many Federal buildings.

Lucky for me, I can still go to the post office. I am not going to bother to collect all the necessary documentation, and I “quote” -

To be eligible to purchase a REAL ID, the SCDMV must have on file all of the following:

·         Proof of Identity (Government-issued birth certificate or valid US Passport)

·         Proof of Social Security Number.

·         Two Proofs of Current, Physical SC Address.

·         Proof of All Legal Name Changes.

And why do I care not? Because I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying home.

Home, as in no more flying or long drives. I’ve always been “attached” to home. It wasn’t ever bad when we drove throughout the country, but just ask the people with whom I’ve flown. Once I’m at our destination, I’m absolutely fine, but going and coming I am a nervous wreck. Not because I hate the flying, because I don’t. (Though these days with all the rigmarole attached to the security end of it, I’m not much pf a fan.)  I just don’t want any glitches to keep me from getting there and getting home. As I’ve gotten older, say in the last thirty years or so, I just want to stay close to home. I don’t want to go so far away that I couldn’t walk home if I had to.

That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.

THE CURMUDGEON IS LOOSE AGAIN

I am sometimes very glad that we’ve not got the power to read each other’s minds.  Surely I wouldn’t be thinking this way if we did have the power, but there are so many times that I want to shout at people, tell them off, tell them what I think of their conduct or attitudes.  Not nice, not nice, I know. 

I am invariably polite.  You’ll rarely hear me say, for instance “I like that dress,” or “I like that haircut.”  What I’ll say will be something like “What a dress!” or “That haircut is you!”  There’s a subtle difference there, and there’s no point in antagonizing some poor being who’s probably trying her best. I do try my own best, and it may not suit everyone else.

There’s a lovely saying, attributed to Elsie de Wolfe: “Be pretty if you can, be witty if you must, but be gracious if it kills you.”  Sometimes I’ve had to be gracious until my teeth hurt!

I knew a gal once, a friend of a friend, and she and I got talking about people we have no use for.  She said she wished she had a magic finger that she could point, just like a kid uses his forefinger and points it like a gun, and just cock the thumb trigger, and ‘poof’, they’d be gone. I’ve been mulling over the idea ever since we had that conversation.

Most of the rest of this was posted on my blog back in January of 2013. I apologize to any of my readers who are enamored of our current President, but sometimes I really wish I could use the magic finger on him. There must be times when even his loyal troops cringe at the things he says, especially, as he’s done lately, when he labels as “evil” any one opposed to his thinking.

It’s probably the same for most people, but there are several prominent people, entertainers and politicians among them, that I just don’t care for on looks alone. With our current POTUS, it’s looks and everything else about him.  

I suppose it’s good we don’t have this magic finger. It’s a simplistic solution - and just think of the possible ramifications - but don’t you too sometimes wish you had a magic finger like that? (other than that finger?) 

But then, I wonder who might use that magic finger on me?  I’d better watch my p’s and q’s.

REUBEN, REUBEN. I'VE BEEN THINKING...

…what a strange world this is right now.

Last Tuesday, I got an email from our son. He on a fishing trip down in Florida. There was no message, no attachment, but the subject was “Lobster Reuben.” Was he kidding me? He knows I’m a Reuben fanatic. Nope! I googled it, and there it was: Lobster Reuben - a Florida Keys specialty. Some people must love ‘em, otherwise why would they sell ‘em. I love lobster, I love sauerkraut, but lobster with sauerkraut ain’t gonna pass my lips.

I am getting a little peeved with all the sandwiches mislabeled as Reubens. The worst menu listing I’ve seen lists a Reuben as “Turkey or corned beef, 1000 Island Dressing, slaw or kraut, with Swiss cheese on rye toast.” Turkey? Slaw? 

That’s like mixing rye and vermouth and calling it a martini.

p.s. The very, very best Reuben I ever had was served at the now defunct D & H Restaurant in Pittsburgh, New York. Why was it so good? The owner-chef made the sauerkraut from scratch. I’ve had some pretty good Reubens since then, but that one was memorable.

MICHAEL

Hurricane Michael has left a huge mess down in Florida, and has come  barreling north-east. Above is a screenshot of the predicted storm path over us here in a few hours.  As with the late, unlamented Florence, we're ready as we can be. And as with the late, unlamented Florence, I doubt we'll experience much more than wind and rain. At least we had some practice in getting ready for the storm.
I can't begin to comprehend how people handle the total destruction of their homes and livelihoods by wind and water. I think it's time for coastal civilizations to move inland or underground. I can't begin to comprehend that either.

Meanwhile - Michael will head out, jet-propelled, and bother the folks in Europe early next week. I hope he's quieted down by the time he gets there.

INDULGING OURSELVES

Frank and I are getting choosy in our old age. We’ve decided that we’d like to have the best. We’ve always loved dining out. Where we lived in upstate New York, though we were in a rural area, we were extremely fortunate to live relatively near some very good restaurants. We had standing reservations at a fine, award-winning restaurant, and regularly visited the others. We’d have appetizers or soup, main course, dessert and coffee. And drinks and wine, of course. When we moved south, we had to trek north into Charlotte to find anything similar, and we got out of the custom of dining out at least once a month.

Over the years, more good restaurants have opened closer to home. The problem for us now is that we don’t eat very much for dinner these days. We might go to an inexpensive or chain restaurant and have just an entrée. On state occasions, we’re going to a French restaurant that opened recently. We don’t have just an entrée there. Oooola la, that is indulgence at its finest.

But, I digress. We both love filet mignon. We’ve found some very tasty filets mignons in local restaurants. The problem now is that because we’re having just an entrée, paying for a filet mignon – anywhere from $29 to $40 or more per person - is just absurd. We can afford it, but why would we? I can do up filets mignons for two for less than half the price of one eaten out. Ah yes, the experience is supposed to count for the price. Well, we’ve experienced the best – now we just please our taste buds at home.  

All this is by way of telling you that last night, as I've been doing for a few months now, I did up two absolutely delicious filets mignons. A bit of adobo seasoning, done in butter, done to a turn: medium. No sauces, no extras, just delicious. Of all things, Frank’s choice for potato was potato salad. Filet mignon and potato salad. My mouth had a party.