BBQ Saturday...

I'm going to a big BBQ this afternoon. It's in honor of the 35th anniversary of The Millerton Pathfinders Group, one of the local AA clubs. Imagine that, 35 years of holding meetings and helping people try to get sober? Amazing. I was only 5 years old when they first began. There are supposed to be quite a lot of people coming, and a live band. I heard the number '75' being batted around, so that's a big BBQ. I'm bringing an Asian broccoli salad that I made yesterday. It came out OK. It has julienned carrots, red peppers, and the yellow part of summer squash, julienned as well. The dressing is made of fresh ginger, garlic, rice wine vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, sweet chile-garlic sauce, and canola oil. I pureed that all in the blender and added a little water for consistency and some salt at the end. I cut up all the broccoli into florettes and blanched them off in boiling water, then shocked them in ice water to stop them from cooking. Then I mixed the whole shebang together and left it in the fridge overnight. I just checked it out and the veggies are still crunchy. All I need to do is pick a whole lot of basil, chiffonade the leaves (cut in thin strips), and mix that in as well. I'll do that last minute. It should be a nice alternative to the potato/macaroni/ jello salad fare that seems to dominate the buffet at these kinds of gigs.

My mother is doing much better today. Her grief was considerably less this morning and she seems to be able to speak about inviting another cat into our lives. We talked about how all pets are special and that none of them can ever be replaced. She also agreed that Miss Kitty would want us to have another cat in our lives. You can imagine the sigh of relief at these motions towards healing. When I brought up the practical side of the issue (mice) she said "Oh yes, they'll be moving in the house in a couple of months.". So true. This place will be overrun with the little squeakers if we don't do something soon. I predict that all will be well in 2 weeks and we will once again be charmed and comforted by the antics of another feline companion.

On the subject of time, where is the summer going? Soon the leaves will turn and the morning air will turn crisp. The earth will begin its tilt and the light will have that particular shade of gold that can only mean fall. I once believed that I wanted to live in a climate where it was always 80* and sunny. However, through trial and error, I have discovered that I am a temperate person and need a temperate climate. 4 seasons suit me just fine. Each season seems to eventually become tiresome, as familiarity breeds contempt. But just when you think you can't stand it anymore, here comes the change to whatever is next. For me, fall is a lovely time of year. The fall harvest is one of my favorites, and the smell in the air puts a twinkle in my eye. It is still summer, however, and I will take it. Hazy, hot, and humid, with promises of tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, and all the summer garden stuff. These are the 'salad days', literally. Moving slowly and enjoying the heat, storing up energy like lizards, keeping memories of sunny afternoons like stores of nuts in a tree--this is the stuff that gets me through the winter, which we all know is just around the corner.

Time to pick that basil...

Johnnyboy

A new day, with all the promises...

Today I woke up feeling not so bad, considering yesterdays tragedy and pain. I had made some plans to get some things done, so I followed through with them. There is nothing like being alive to take your mind off the past. I was able to have my car fixed (a new headlight), I made a huge Asian broccoli salad for an AA BBQ tomorrow, and I drove to Hudson for a couple odds and ends. The trip to shop turned out unsuccessful in some ways, but I did pick up some flowers for my mother. She is in deep mourning over the loss of Miss Kitty, and I share her grief, but in a different fashion. I talk about it with people.

Last night at the meeting I spoke to a few people about how I felt, the death, etc...I was given loads of sympathy and advice. It just felt so much better to get out so many of the feelings and have the response be signified by yet another fellowship of souls. Once again I find that I am not alone.

One woman talked to me about her 'rescue cats'--cats that she has rescued from the ASPCA and other places. It occurred to me that we had rescued Miss Kitty on that cold, December evening 4 years ago. I feel that we now have an obligation to rescue another lonesome cat. This is what Miss Kitty would have wanted. She was a hopeful cat, and preferred not to feel sad or depressed. She would not want our house lacking in feline influence. She would want us to find another to take her place.

We can never 'replace' Miss Kitty. We can only remember the joys of the past and find new joys in the present, building a future with those moments. A new cat will be just that: original and unique, with its own humors and habits that we will quickly grow to love, and someday remember with deep fondness.

So goes life, if you let it.


Johnnyboy

Miss Kitty, in memorium...

I left the house this morning after posting my blog. I met with my therapist and then rushed home, hoping to see my beloved friend and feline companion bounding across the yard. She still had not returned. So I took a walk.

I found her about 100 yards from the house, bloodied and still. I think that she had been clipped by a car last night and managed to crawl halfway home before dying.

To say that she will be missed is an understatement. She had an uncanny ability to sense when others were in pain and comfort them. She understood many human words and was very talkative herself. She was gentle and kind (except to mice and rabbits) and was a great napper. She would curl up in my right armpit and fall asleep with me when I napped in the afternoon. She was a blessing in times of great pain and darkness and I am grateful beyond words at the time we had together. Wherever the souls of cats go, she is there, in the tall grass. She will forever roll at my feet and bump her head against my hand for a little extra attention.

My mother is as crushed as I am. She herself is a gentle soul, and, at her age has seen many deaths, of both two and four-legged friends. As I said before, Miss Kitty was of great comfort to her during the bleak months I was in jail. For that I am forever thankful.

She seemingly appeared out of nowhere when we needed her the most. She has gone back from where she came.

Miss Kitty
8/2001--7/28/2005


Johnnyboy

Where is Miss Kitty?

My cat has not been home. She always comes home late at night, or at least early in the morning when my mother wakes up. Last night I called her to come in until about 1:30am, but there was no response from the night. This morning, my mother asked about her, because Miss Kitty had not been on the porch, as per her usual schedule. I fear the worst, of course, and living in the country, she could be anywhere. We don't live near any busy roads, which is a relief. I did take a quick recon on some of the roads leading out of the small town where I live, and thankfully, no gruesome remains.

She sticks close to the house as a rule. She can find plenty of prowling and stalking without ranging far and wide, but, oh dear, I am so worried.

She appeared on our backstep Christmas Eve, 2001. I was 2 weeks sober and feeling pretty shaky. I had gone outside to smoke a cigarette in the 20* night. As I was sitting on the stoop I heard a pitiful little cry from the woodshed, about 25 feet away. I used the age-old cat call and this little calico thing bounded out of the darkness. She immediately wrapped herself around my ankles, meowing and purring. To make a long story short, she adopted us and has been the sweetest cat we have ever known. She is loving and kind, playful and gentle, and one of the best mousers I've ever seen. She loves to sleep with me and takes naps when she can work them into her busy schedule. My niece, Kaolin, named her 'Miss Kitty', and the name stuck. I have a more elaborate name for her, but that's our secret.

Miss Kitty was my mothers only companion while I served my time in jail. I give her all the credit for perhaps even saving my mothers sanity during that dark time. She always seems to know when those around her need comfort or a little cheering up. She is a loving and fastidious pet who is currently greatly missed and worried over. My mother doesn't know what to do.

Miss Kitty is an adult cat. She is a fast runner, very smart, and has very sharp, long claws. She can take care of herself in situations with other fourlegged or flying creatures. I have to believe that. For the moment I also have to believe that I will leave here in a few minutes and begin my day. When I return she will be home, exhausted from her great adventure and napping in one of many choice spots she knows. On seeing me she will stretch, give her usual "Blurp", yawn, and present the top of her head for a scratch. This is the way it has always been, and for the moment, I can't think in any other terms.

Oh, Miss Kitty, won't you please come home?

Johnnyboy

Dog days--ARRFF, they said...

Another hot one in the old town tonight. Last night I went downstairs to let my cat in. It was 12:45am. It was also still 82*. The air was just plain thick. Poor Miss Kitty was so confused as to what to do. Either stay outside and be hot, or come inside and be hot. Granted the activity outside was rife with stalking possibilities, but she settled on inside, water, cat food, and a cool stretch out on the floor for a little snooze. I did the same, but woke up feeling hot and slimy and in need of a cool shower. I almost felt as if I had been drinking all night.

These are definitely the days to take it slow, drink plenty of non-alcoholic fluids, and try not to exert yourself too much. People on the road tend to be a little bit more stressed out, or maybe it's just me. ;-) Whatever is going to happen, will, with or without my being there.

Right now I have a bag of Birdseye frozen sweet peas on my head. Right on top. It feels great. I can feel my whole body beginning to cool down and I really wish I could go out and about and feel just as comfy, but...maybe no one would say anything because they wouldn't know what to say. It would be like the Douglas Adams theory of Somebody Elses Business. Such a strange thing as a man walking around with a bag of frozen peas on his head is too absurd for the mind to comprehend, so to risk being a fool by asking about it or pointing it out would never cross peoples minds. Thus I would be invisible.

It has suddenly grown very dark and cloudy. The wind has picked up. It is supposed to rain, but the temperature (90*) hasn't dropped yet. The birds have stopped singing.

I think the peas are beginning to thaw.


Johnnyboy

Haiku, and doing better, thank you very much...

Life worked out more than well today. So well that my morning will be booked. I decided to write up todays entry right now, while I have the time. I'll have some new haiku from jail eventually, but first a little rant...

There is something wrong with the world. There seems to be a conspiracy to keep the elderly confused and unable to fend for themselves. It is a simple, and supposedly efficient design called 'tele-prompting'. You know what I mean---you call your phone company or any business these days and you hear the recording, "Press 1 for Mr. Jones, press 2 if you want free soup,...". These voice commands can be very confusing to the elderly who only want to speak with a human being. Many are hard of hearing, or are not exactly sure what they want to say or who they want to speak with. They only know that they want help. In their frustration many folks just hang up and give up on their quest for assistance. I have experienced this first hand with my mother as well as a neighbor. The neighbor was suddenly unable to make a long-distance call. He grew angry at the fusillade of numbers that the prompt was spitting out at him, so he called me. I went to his aid, dialed the numbers, encountered the same prompts, and was eventually (30 minutes later) able to speak with a human being. All would be well except that this poor operator/tech support could barely speak English. I am not kidding. It took me almost 15 minutes to realize that he was telling me that my friends LDS had been sold to another company over the weekend and we needed to contact our local company to have the service reassigned, or something like that. I'm still not entirely sure what the guy was talking about. The upshot is that tomorrow I'm calling Taconic Telephone and having the LDS transferred over to them. I am hoping that this will help out my friend. I mean, really, if I had such a hard time with the system, imagine what an 85 year old man who has suffered 2 strokes and a quadruple bypass operation in the past year is going to do? My mom had a similar circumstance, but this was with her doctor. She needed to go in for some blood work and wished to make an appointment. She called the local clinic and received the endless series of instructions and options one hears. Some how she got the idea that the clinic was closed for vacation and would not be open for 4 or 5 days. I called back and was able to untangle the knot of confusion for her. We made the appointment, all went well, she's in good health. All she wanted to do was speak with a human. There is something irresponsible about the whole theory. Teleprompters direct our calls to the party we need to speak with. The service skirts the issue of someone answering the phone and speaking with us, ascertaining the situation, and then making the relevant decision by connecting us to whomever we need to speak with. There is no one to blame now. No one to remain accountable if we cannot understand the instructions.

There is no one home.

Slow down, people. The work you're doing doesn't require you to ignore your fellows.

I don't watch TV (except for X-Files).

I don't own a cellphone.

I don't have Instant Messenger

There is nothing so important that it can't wait for me to breathe.

Here are some haiku...

#60.
Really, is it strange,
as the sun is leaving town,
to think of your eyes?

#175.
I've dreamed of green leaves
and sunshine in the garden
and always of you.

#214.
Sometimes I wonder,
"Is this happening to me?".
Life is but a dream.


Johnnyboy

Mental downslide...

I feel it coming on, like a bad case of food poisoning. I'm feeling extremely serious this morning, but not particularly focused on anything. This is a bad combination as it usually leads to self-pity and remorse. I need to remember where I was yesterday, and the chances I have today. In the rehab unit last night I looked around and I saw numerous people who have never had the opportunities that I have had or lived the luxuries that I have lived. For all of my "bad luck", I've had it pretty good. The only calamities have been a result of my own actions and stupidity. Thankfully I don't need to act in such a fashion anymore. I can look before I decide to leap, and perhaps in looking not leap at all. That would be a change.

The two guys that I went to P'keepsie with last night are quite the pair. Big, macho, loud, etc...Many of the things that I am not. It is apparent from their own stories that they grew up in families ruled by the father, and more times than not ruled with an open hand. Their drinking careers were spent at the worst kinds of dives, full of violence, car wrecks, and thievery. They have both been in jail many times. Except for going to jail, these are all 'yets' for me. Some are 'never will happen', and I am thankful for that. I was raised in a family that prized reason and rationality as problem solving tools. Books were the main focus of entertainment. To this day I don't watch television. The largest TV in the house is a 10 year old 22" Zenith that my mom watches. She watches the news and "Law and Order" reruns, golf, football, and tennis. These 2 guys were exhorting the benefits of a 4' x 3' screen and how "you gotta have one". No thanks. I don't want one, and frankly it would look really bad in my house, which is very old and colonial. I spend too much time in front of my PC as it is these days. The 2 of them also have this compulsion to make sex jokes, particularly the old school jokes about homosexuality and anal sex. It's not as if they are overtly homophobic, but the joking and "good natured" ribbing gets a bit tiresome. I'm not offended by the subject matter as much as just offended at jokes of that nature. I think that this is the American Male Syndrome. It is a need to assert their own straightness. I wonder what they are compensating for? I grew up in a social group where homosexuality was not considered odd, wrong, or evil. Some of my parents' friends were, and are, gay, so I was able to see strong men and women, successful in life, living without any of these hangups. There was never any demonizing or phobias attached to the choice of lifestyle.

I hope I don't come off sounding snobbish or classist. I hope that I am none of these things. These guys mean a lot to me and I would trust them with my life. I would like to think that my views on the world are not a product of having lived an upper class lifestyle, replete with good schools, travel, etc...There are certainly impoverished families who cherish education and peace as much as there are very wealthy homes full of violence and abuse. So this is not a product of money. It is a product of upbringing, and how I was pushed towards reading at an early age, and given chances to expand my horizons through learning anything that came down the pike. There was no question considered too foolish to mask, and no answer that wasn't worth looking up in a book. A trip to the city meant museums, libraries, music, and theater. Television was not something to occupy time. It was used as a source of information, and entertainment, but that was closely monitored.

Such different worlds we live in, just down the street from each other, yet oceans apart.

I didn't mean to talk about all this sociology crap today. What I wanted to talk about was The X-Files. I have noticed a trend: Scully is always the one to get kidnapped, drugged, exposed to plagues, etc...This is a blanket statement, for of course Mulder has these moments as well, but not with the frequency of Special Agent Dana Scully, Official Skeptic. It's almost as if she needs all this stuff to happen so that eventually she'll hit a kind of bottom and finally believe.


Johnnyboy

A really great day...

I'm just posting a small entry...The X-Files call...

Had a great day today. I just returned from a commitment in Poughkeepsie with Wayne and Joe, 2 friends from AA. We spoke at a transition housing unit connected to the Hudson Valley Psychiatric Center. Some really low bottoms in there, but all of the residents were eager and friendly and polite. I think some will make it, at least I hope so. I left with the same good feeling about my own sobriety. I am doing OK today, and it's all because I am sober and able to show up for life. What a relief this is all turning out to be. I can make it through crises big and small and not drink or check out in any way. I'll write more about this later, but now it's time for more Mulder and Scully.

Johnnyboy

I apologize for the inconvenience...

Sorry to all those who expected a blog yesterday. I completely forgot to write one. So let me recount some of the happenings in yesterdays life.

I met with my faculty mentor yesterday in Latham at 3PM. We discussed my past education, my present situation, and where I was going. As it turns out I will not be receiving much in terms of credit for my Associates Degree from culinary school. Unless I can show that I attended classes in the sciences, languages, history, college algebra, humanities, etc...I will get nada. When I was told this disappointing news, I immediately began to seethe. "How could they?", I thought. My mind went nuts for about 10 seconds. I was King, I was in charge, and don't they know who I am? Thankfully this thinking never left my head.

So, it seems I'll have to take some actual classes when I return to school, instead of skating through on what I think that I've earned and what I think I deserve. In a split second my mind warmed to the idea of taking a 'hard science' (I'm thinking geology), some math (algebra), history (American), a foreign language (I am going to avoid French, having studied it in high school), and a few other subjects deemed part of the core curriculum of any college or university. My concentration will be in political science and philosophy, so I'll look to that end to decide on my core studies. Once again I find that I am not that special and that there is nothing unique about me or my personal history.

In any case, the meeting went well, and I was given in-state status. I have paid for the first semester, which begins in September. My first 2 classes will be an intro class on college writing, called, BTW, Introduction to College Writing, and The History of Western Philosophy, Pt. 1. The philosophy class will be taught by my mentor, Dr. Charles Fox, who I find to be an engaging and straightforward fellow. The writing class will be taught by Claudia Hough, whom I have yet to meet. I am excited, eager, and looking forward to doing something that will help build my future.

So when I came home yesterday at 6:30PM, I was exhausted. I had been on the road since 10AM that morning, all around Berkshire, Columbia, and Rensselaer Counties. The drive home was the worst, in rush hour traffic from Albany, in sweltering heat, at speeds in excess of 70MPH. I can only imagine what it must be like to live at that pace 5 or 6 days a week. No wonder stress, frustration, and the results of them are so prevalent in society. This world needs to take a chill pill and just stop for a few months. Thankfully I will only be driving up to Albany a few times each month, and in the evening to boot. I'll miss some of the craziness and life-sucking vortex of the rush hour lifestyle. The quality of my life is incredibly serene here in the country, where things move at a more natural and unhurried pace.

Outside I can hear the frogs on the pond and the owls in the trees. In a couple of hours the coyotes will start to wail. Last night I stood outside for a cigarette and heard them howling off in the distance, miles away it seemed. The air was clear and the moon was full, but waning slightly. In the blue light I saw the shadows of trees, motionless, and an eerie reflection off of the ponds surface, caught on floating algae. If I looked directly at the shadows they were indistinct and amorphous. Viewed from the corner of my eye they were sharp as day. I imagined what life must have been like years ago, in the days of superstition, with the banshee wailing , shifting shadows under the moonlight, and the cries of spirits flying through the trees. I'll take that over a freeway any day.

And maybe I'll take Russian, or Chinese...

Johnnyboy

Supreme Court and Stuffed Zucchini...

...Or maybe that should be Stuffed Court...It seems like Shrubya is loading up his side of the fence with folks who will do what he says. This new guy has all the earmarks of a real Yes Man. He's a business lawyer with a right-wing Christian bend to his thinking. That means prayer in schools, drilling in the Arctic, reversing R v. Wade, and tax breaks for the rich.

It can make me depressed, but then I go out in my lush and jungle-like garden and discover a zucchini big enough to stun a horse. This when all the rest of the zukes are but wee nubbins on the plant. It's a mutant, I tell you. So I think I'll stuff it for dinner with a mix of ground meat, herbs, and veggies, and roast it in the oven. I think I'll try to find some ground lamb, mix it with some garlic, rosemary, olive oil, salt and pepper, and cooked veggies. I'll use peppers, leeks and some potato. It's important to cook these vegetables first, before you mix them in with the meat. That way all of their water and juices get boiled away, concentrating the flavors and insuring that your mix won't turn soggy. Dice all the veggies medium, and saute until they are cooked through. Don't forget the salt and pepper. The potatoes add a starchiness that helps to hold the mix together. That way you don't have to add bread crumbs or eggs. This meat mix will also work for any kind of stuffed meat pastry--just make sure that you cook the mix before you wrap it in the phyllo dough. The possibilities are endless. That's why I love food and cooking. Recipes are good for pastry and things like that, but the rest is all technique and knowing how to treat the food from the raw state up until service. Being able to look at a cut of meat, or any item of food, and knowing how best to prepare it in order to bring out its best is a great gift, and one that I've worked hard at perfecting.


4 more blasts in London this morning, but they seem to have added up to naught--only 1 person injured. I think it was a copycat.


Johnnyboy

Feeling creeped out...a little...

Last night I was alone in the house for the first time in months, and to be honest, I was pretty creeped out. This is an old house, and full of memories and probably a few ghosts, if you believe in that kind of thing. No poltergiest activity, but I have the constant feeling that I am being watched from the hallway outside my room, and also the stairway, through the banister railing. This doesn't occur during the day, only at night. I hear whispered voices that may or may not be frogs on the pond. I leave on an outside flood light, which works wonders in the hazy mist rolling out of the nearby wetlands. I make it a point to check the empty rooms downstairs and lock all the doors. There are people living in the shadows. I am not alone. The house is dead silent. I wake up in sweats and my cat is annoyed and confused that I have woken her up with my anxiety. She sees more than me. She sleeps soundly, without anxiety, because she's a cat. I know there is nothing and no one in the house. This is absurd, I'm 40 years old, for Christs sake, and afraid of the dark. What a fool I can be, and how superstitious.

That doesn't mean you're going to catch me in the basement...

When I was 11 I saw the movie 'Jaws'. I didn't swim in the ocean for years. I even avoided swimming pools, unless I could see the bottom.

I should have never seen 'The Blair Witch Project', 'The Exorcist', or 'The Others'. Yah! I just got chills thinking about them.

I had a great talk with my sister about an hour ago. We don't always see eye-to-eye, and sometimes our communication can get pretty monosyllabic. Today was a really good day. We talked about a lot of important stuff in a very forward thinking fashion. These are all small, healthy, new stones in a new foundation of family. I don't always know what to do with these building blocks. I have to have a little faith that they are beneficial and use them, sometimes blindly. They'll fit where they fit, and that will be that. Anyway, good speaking with you, if you read this. Restoration of any structure can be a long, tedious, and difficult project, but always worthwhile in the end. Restoration is probably more difficult than tearing down and building anew. Any architects want to chime in on this one?


Johnnyboy

Rainy inky hills...

And it's another installment of Haiku Tuesday. I've had a really good day so far. My meeting went well, lunched with some friends, and now I'm home with a summer rain coming down to beat the band. My mother drove to Boston this morning to bring my sisters dog, Henry, home from his vacation in the country. He's very happy to be back in Lexington with Jojo and Mo and I'm sure he's fast asleep already.

My garden is going crazy. I now have zucchini as well, but we need a good bout of sunshine to dry out the rain and turn my tomatoes a new color besides green. All in good time.

Here are some haiku...

#50.
Yellow swollen sky
releasing soaking downpours:
an empty garden

#4.
I dream of raindrops
and sunshine warm and steaming
the green leaves on trees.

#18.
The night is still hot
and moves slow, like inky mud.
When will the rain come?


Until tomorrow...
Johnnyboy

Looking forward to pesto...

I woke up this morning feeling the same old dread over my future. It seems that the ghosts of my past have decided to haunt me today and make me feel worthless. I know that this is not true. I have an intrinsic worth, as do all beings. But how I wish I could go back and change what has happened. At its worst, I feel that my life is ruined and over. Done with. Finished. These feelings come at the dawn of my going back to school and finishing what I had barely began 20+ years ago. So in a way, I guess I am going back and changing what has already happened.

I'm meeting my attorney this morning for a cup of coffee and a chat about some things going on in my head. She's a wonderful woman, very patient, and I'm lucky and grateful to have her confidence. I am applying for my Irish passport, being a dual citizen and all. Unfortunately the paperwork I wish her to sign is not complete so I'll have to make another appointment with her to complete those items. I still need to have 2 pictures taken and to have her sign the pictures as well as the witness section. No hurry on this.

My basil is going crazy, so I think I'll make pesto this afternoon. I need to pick up some really good Parmesan cheese and maybe some more pine nuts. My recipe is pretty straightforward.
First you need lots of fresh basil, cleaned of dirt and sand. Toast the pinenuts lightly. Grate the cheese. Keep all of these things separate. Grind up all the basil and lots of garlic in a blender or something, with extra virgin olive oil (EVOO) as a medium. When you have this paste, transfer it to a good sized mixing bowl. Crush up your pine nuts by hand, using the backside of a saute pan, or a few quick passes of a knife. Add the nuts to the paste and blend in with a spatula. Season with Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Then add your grated cheese and mix thoroughly. Check your seasoning, add more oil if you want, and voila! pesto. Pesto freezes really well if you divide it up in small ziplock bags, flatten them out, and pop them in the fridge.

Use your best judgment for measurements. I go by taste and texture. Remember, there is a lot of room to move with food, and no chef, no matter how well respected, has the definitive recipe. Also remember that most, if not all, great recipes are based on peasant dishes--poor folks food, country cookin', whatever. Use the ingredients at hand. Bon apetit!

Johnnyboy

A perfect day ahead...

I feel like I should really do absolutely nothing of any consequence today. It's now just after 10am and I haven't been awake for even an hour. A good start, IMHO. It is raining, off and on, which gives the outside a pleasant sound of hissing and frying. The birds are busy talking about bird stuff and my mom is downstairs watching golf. My cat is probably snoozing somewhere, as is Henry, my sisters 15 year old Westy. He sleeps a lot anyway. I would too, if I were 105. I plan on going to Copake Falls tonight at around 6:30, but that's hours away. I think I'll work on a model for a bit and then do the one constructive activity I wish to accomplish: vacuum my office. The scattered carcasses of many bugs are lining the window sills, and for some reason, the baseboard heaters. Break out the Electrolux.

There is an article in today's New York Times about Croatia, and what a wonderful travel destination it has become. In a way this is sad, because for over 100 years, Croatia has been the Europeans secret little haven and vacation spot. When I was there, I was blissfully aware that there was a dearth of Americans. Now I fear that the scene has changed. It's not that I don't like Americans--people are people, there are obnoxious French as well--but Americans seem to be, more often than not, the kind of travelers that wave around large sums of money and speak in loud, American voices when they don't know the local lingo. As if yelling helps with the translation. Thankfully I think that Croatia is safe, though. Most Americans couldn't find it on a map if they tried.

Sorry if I sound bitter, but there was a radio article on the current state of the media the other day that made me depressed: most Americans are not interested in foreign news. We seem to live in a vacuum. The United States of Electrolux.

Cloudy, warm, and damp...

It's a jungle out there today. The foliage is so lush that there seems to be a kind of prehistoric quality to the plants surrounding the house. The forest primeval is all around, just waiting for us humans to leave so it can get on with the business of growing. These damp days, when book pages curl in the humidity and just thinking too hard makes me sweat, are the cause of dreams and nightmares. In the morning when I wake up, I don't remember what it was that I had been dreaming, but it had all been vivid and fraught with morphean importance. In the end, I woke up too early, and in the humid hours before sunrise tossed and turned until I fell back into sleep. The phone began to ring, and no one answered. There were the small, far off, sonic invasions of the rooster down the road, and I knew I had to get up eventually. Strange how different sounds make me wake up in different moods, with different feelings. A few nights ago, the eerie cries of a pack of coyotes woke me up at around 2AM. It sounded like an army of ghosts, haunting the field behind my home. Birds outside my window give me the feeling of gentle insistence. If my cat starts talking, it always seems like "What are you doing? Get up, get up!".

And now its time to pick up the mail. I'm sending the last 4 episodes of the first X-Files season back to Netflix. I won't receive the beginnings of season 2 until next Tuesday. It should take me about 2 1/2 months to watch the whole shebang.

Then its off to a meeting in Great Barrington. Eventually, when I go back to school, my meetings will die down some, but I'll go everyday at least. My life continues on and on, with or without my permission.

Johnnyboy

Not much to report...

Today has been pretty amazing. I seem to be sober yet another day and very active in my program of recovery. My home group is working to reach out to the very large Latino community in the area and start up some Spanish language meetings. All the building blocks are falling into place. People are talking, networking, and generally becoming very enthusiastic about this process of hope and change.

My sister and brother-in-law have returned from their trip and are safe in Boston, I hope. They arrived home today but have yet to call. I expect the jet-lag is pretty fierce. I've been there.

I am almost finished with the first season of The X-Files, and will wrap it up tonight. This is why todays entry is short. Dana and Fox await. ;-)

Johnnyboy

Sitting and thinking...

I had so much to write about yesterday, I think. As I fell asleep last night there was some wise, apropo, and prescient idea floating in my head and I planned on putting it done here this morning. This is not going to happen. I have no idea what that thought was. How about some politics?

To me, the political agenda of the Bush administration seems obvious: to control the world through the age-old machinery of empire building. The clothing that is thrown over the juggernaut seems familiar, but it is keeping with the times. The British used the idea of bringing civilization to the dark corners of the globe and educating the poor little people into British subjects. The Romans wished to spread the Glory that was Rome, Roman law in a lawless land, and to make money through taxation. Bush wishes to spread democracy and freedom and The American Way,via military occupation. This is attempted by direct action, a la Iraq/Afghanistan, or more indirectly and non-militarily by promoting US businesses abroad. Businesses like Kentucky Fried Chicken, McDonald's, and other, non-energy based, corporations that are bold symbols of Americas capitalist landscape are sometimes the first exposure to the US for many people.

What also seems obvious is that Bush and his gang are nothing more than a bunch of crooks who find it easy to dupe the public with a blend of religious rhetoric and fear mongering Gestapo tactics. Empires, on the whole are not necessarily the best way to rule the world. They are as weak as their weakest link, and eventually fall, like Britain, Rome, and all the others. But The New American Empire is the worst because they are corrupt at their core. Their ultimate goal is not rule of law, or education by occupation, or gathering of taxes to finance the infrastructure. It is not the bringing together of many cultures, religions, and peoples under one roof. They desire the one great flaw of Empire, and that is power. They are skipping the many years that made Rome great and jumping right to the corruption that caused its fall. They are also finding it harder to move around than they thought it would be. There are protesters, political opponents, and all the rest dogging their every step. This is, of course, due mainly to the freedoms that democracy brings. On one side of his mouth Bush praises the opposition, welcoming and earnest and timely debate. The other side of his mouth, the side he tells the truth with, wishes for a one-party system, where he is King, and the rule of law is The Law of George. Bow down or be punished! Here's a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley that sums up my feelings about Empire.

Ozymandias

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.



Wecome to the Beginning, and the End, of the Great American Empire!

Johnnyboy

I'm going back to school!

I woke up this morning at 5:30 and prepared myself for my first real dealings with Empire State College. I drove 1 hour and 15 minutes to Latham, New York, arrived a little early, had some coffee, and promptly set myself up for expectations and resentments. The morning was spent listening to very dull, but necessary and required, presentations from assorted admissions people. Mostly stuff about what goes on academically, who to talk to in case of any trouble or need, financial aid information, etc...Like I said, all necessary, but, oh, so boring. I give the ladies credit, though, they tried so hard to make it interesting. I fell asleep during the financial aid section. I was also 'given' my mentor, a man by the name of Charles Fox. If his resume is anything to go by, he's the genius who will be directing my academic career from here on out. I was very impressed, and was looking forward to meeting him during the lunch break.

He never showed.

At that point all of my resentments and anger started swirling in my head, and if it weren't for my few years in recovery, I would have listened to them. Instead I realized that I wasn't in control, life on lifes terms was in action, and that there was surely an honest and reasonable excuse for his absence. I practiced restraint of tongue and pen, and filled out my evaluation questionaire honestly as well. I gave them all high marks except for the lack of mentor. Then I drove home, exhausted.

Dr. Fox called my home 5 minutes before I drove up the driveway. So I called him back. All is well, and I will be enrolling in Empire State College next Friday, when the two of us meet and discuss my learning contract and my future. I am planning on starting in September, regardless of my in-state status. I feel that I should not wait until January of 2006 to make this move. This needs to happen now, while I'm hot-to-trot and ready-to-go.

Now it's 10:30PM. I've had a full day of driving (4 hours), sitting in lectures (5 1/2 hours), a meeting (1 1/2 hours), and a nap somewhere in between (1 1/4 hours). I know, I'm missing 5 hours somewhere...

Did I mention I'm watching a lot of X-Files? ;-)


Johnnyboy

Tuesday, with sun and haiku...

My mom is at the garage this morning having her AC recharged. This is fine, as it gives me some time here without her. I'll probably be heading out for lunch with a good friend before mom returns so I won't see her until this afternoon sometime. Meanwhile a friend of hers called and needed to know what today was, as in 'Tuesday'. This would have been funny had it not been so sad. As we age, the body and mind begin to fail us. Why? In his book "Jitterbug Perfume", Tom Robbins postulates that it is a combination of diet, exercise, mental outlook, hottubs, and sexual energy. A healthy diet, a good daily walk, a positive and relaxed mental attitude, daily tubbing, and lots of passionate nookie fool the body and mind into thinking it's younger than it is, hence, longevity, etc...The body has habits, and aging is one of them. Habits can be broken.


Here's some more haiku for the day. I must say I am thoroughly enjoying 'Haiku Tuesday', as well as the other days that I blog, but this one in particular.

#51.
Acre and acre
planted with peaches and plums,
not yet harvested.

#146.
The flower garden
in the early spring, is full
of winters remains.

#152.
'Hope' is a nomad,
a hitchhiker, wandering,
knocking on my door.

Have a lovely day, all who read this. And if you do read this, please make a comment, even just a nod to let me know that you stopped by.


Johnnyboy

Me or Memorex...?

The brunch yesterday went very well, much better than I had expected. It was really good to see Dan again, after so many years. He is as affable and friendly as ever and very disarming. Truly a nice guy, without any guile or need to throw himself about. And why should he? He's not the sick one. That would be me, but I'm getting better. Jessica was prettier than I remembered her to be, and as brilliant as anyone could wish. Do I sound a little struck? I guess I am, and I guess I've always had a crush on her since we were kids. It seems the feelings haven't changed. When it came time to leave, I asked her if she was staying in the area for a while--her response was that she was going back to NYC in the morning, but that she'd be around, and maybe we should have a drink next time she's up in the area. I suggested lunch, so we'll see what we do. She's definitely what I would call a hottie--brilliant, sexy, cute, and...brilliant! I wonder what she looks like in glasses...hmmm...

Another day and another week begins. I have my orientation meeting for school on Wednesday, and some responsibilities to my mother and my new sponsee, but all the rest is all me. I'll try to keep it simple and not get too riled up.

Johnnyboy

So far, so good...

I know that it's only quarter-to-nine, but I'm already suspicious about the day. I'll shake it off, though, because the feeling is unwarranted. This is the problem--

Everything is going really well.

I don't always know what to do with "really well". If the day was crappy, I'd know exactly in which pigeonhole to stuff the thing, but the past 3 days have gone so perfectly, with no sense of rush or confusion, that I am feeling wary. This is all normal, I'm told.

My mom and I have been invited to a brunch this morning. It should be pretty fun. The folks serving it are old friends and they live just up the road. They were originally summer people from Croton-on-Hudson, but they moved here permanently many years ago. I grew up with their children for some of the time, and playing with them was a welcome relief from playing with the local kids. I guess there was a point in my growing up that I realized that there were all kinds of social structures active in my life of which I had never been aware. I suddenly saw that many people in the small town were resentful of how my family was able to live. This mostly had to do with the fact that my father was not a farmer and my mother stayed at home and raised the kids. We toiled neither in the fields nor in the nearby paper mill. "What does your father do?" was a common question in school. The answer that he was a writer was more than not greeted with a confused scrunching up of the face and more questions--"What does he write?". You all see where this is going. How I wished, sometimes, that my father dug ditches and my mother was a truckstop waitress. Anyway, the kids up the road, Danny, and his sister Jessica, were a welcome change from this pattern. They were familiar with artists, writers, and so on. It was not unusual to them. I'm afraid, though that it was not always the easiest of friendships. I must have seemed pretty messed up and somewhat backwards, socially inept, and, if I was lucky, painfully shy.

We lost touch around the same time that I went to boarding school, in 1980.

I ran into Danny in college in 1984. But since then, nothing. Jess has just finished a long tenure working for 'Market Place' on Public Radio International. I haven't seen her since I was about 12. And now we are having brunch in less than an hour? Wow. What could happen? I'm really excited about this whole thing, and a little nervous. Should I remember that maybe Dan and Jess, for all their worldly aplomb, might just be a little nervous as well? Stay tuned, readers, for tomorrows update!

Johnnyboy

Gardens and growth...

After dropping my new sponsee off at rehab yesterday, I left with a feeling of a job well done. Even though I still had a commitment for later in the evening, I felt that my day had been complete and that I could finally relax. So I went home and had some dinner, not rushing for the door and scrambling to make it to my next appointment. The night ended very well and I drove home, pleasantly tired, and ready for bed. In the end I watched 2 episodes of The X-Files on DVD, and slept until 9AM this morning.

I made a pact with myself that I would get some work done today, before I goofed off. I have fulfilled this promise and finished my entry essay for college. I have also begun some quick work of self-evaluation for other prior learning. The instructions say that this will not be the end-all and be-all of this process. I just need to write some stuff in order to get an idea of what I have learned or where I have worked that may be applicable to my program of study. In the end I became a bit confused, and decided it would be OK if I stopped for a spell. So I went out to my garden for a bit of weeding and tending.

The past weeks rain has showered the thirsty little plot, and today the sun has come out. My tomatoes are showing, and my zucchini are blossoming like nobodies business. Need I mention the basil, once a humble 8 plants, now a medium sized bush? Even my cucumbers and peppers are beginning to trellis, reaching up to the sun and sprouting little flowers. All I did was plant the things, honestly, and give them some water and fertilizer, and off they went. A good example of 'letting go', IMHO.

Good advice for me, always.

Johnnyboy

Busy days, rainy days...

Good morning, world. It's another day this morning and it started with a drive down to the VW store to pick up my Jetta. She needed a fairly good amount of work done to her (shocks, exhaust system, wipers, new tires) and it wasn't cheap, but it's done and I won't have to have those items fixed for a good while. Now I am back home for just enough time to jot these thoughts in space and then run out and go to the noon meeting in Great Barrington. From there I drive to Pittsfield and pick up my good friend J who is leaving detox today. We then drive down to Canaan and deliver him to a rehab where he will be spending at least the next 3 weeks. If I'm lucky, I'll have time enough when I get home to have a quick nap and a snooze, and then it's back to Great Barrington where I've been asked to speak tonight and share my experience, strength, and hope. Somewhere along the line I'll eat. I promise, I won't forget. Tomorrow I'll have some time to decompress . I think I'll put the finishing touches on my college essay and fill out any remaining paperwork needed for the orientation meeting next Wednesday.

I'm very excited about this college thing. There is no real fear, just some nervousness and the general feeling that I won't measure up. 'Measure up to what?', I ask myself.

The yardsticks of accomplishment and success are a damning bunch. What is 'success', really? When will I know that I have accomplished any goal? The lines between 'doing' and 'done' are never very clear to me, and they run like ink in the rain. I tend to judge myself based on what I view as the successes of others around me, mostly my family members. This is something I have always done, and always to my detriment. The expectations I put on myself are never achievable because they are based on the successes of those that I admire and those that I wish to be.

The lesson for me today is that I can only be myself, no matter how hard I try to be like someone else. I can view others as inspiration and not the end-all and be-all of how I want to live.

The rain falls down, and I can't stop its falling.
My garden grows because of the water.
Even the weeds grow.
They are part of my garden
And serve a purpose
Beyond what I know.

Johnnyboy

The Truth Is Out There...

And so am I, it seems. I will not be writing about death and disease this morning, so, everyone, breathe a sigh of relief. I will mention, however, that my sister will be in London on Saturday for a couple of days. She's an academic and is combining her trip to Iran and France with a lecture on 19th century female literary figures. Of course I am worried about her safety, but I think this will be the end of hostilities for the time being in England. All war is tragic and cruel, but this kind of warfare seems to be the most tragic, cruel, and cowardly of all.

So I have joined the online DVD rental company called Netflix. It's pretty cool, but I won't go into it, because they can advertise by themselves. This means that I can finally indulge myself in a real guilty pleasure, one that I acquired during my first year of sobriety, waiting around for meetings to start: The X-Files. I was lucky to be able to catch 2, not 1, episode every day except Saturday, starting at 5PM. After the X-files, I watched "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" with no less enthusiasm. So my weekdays were scheduled and structures along 2 things. My meetings came first, then X-Files. It really worked. I think I ended up watching most of the last 2 seasons, before Robert Patrick took David Duchovny's place. But really, how can you replace a character as quirky and funny as a guy named 'Fox Mulder'? What were they thinking?

So anyway, I now have the first 3 discs of season 1, and am having great fun noticing the low budget offerings of a fledgling sci-fi detective show. One thing I saw right off the bat was that Mulder has to always request a car and sign it out before he leaves the building. Good continuity, certainly, but in later episodes, he and Scully are wholly independent from much of the goings-on in the FBI.

So, with 8 seasons to watch, that's a whole lotta Mulder and Scully. But without commercials the episodes are only 40 minutes long. That should take me, let's see...


Johnnyboy

Haiku Tuesday has Hijacked Wednesday...

Sorry for the missed schedule, folks. As some of you know I was wallowing in self-pity and self-hatred and not at all well. Life on life's terms was getting to be a bit much yesterday, and I'm afraid I let it spoil my day in more ways than one.

But never let it be said that you can't start your day over anytime you want. Thankfully I rescued my day in the nick of time. It's amazing what a little fellowship and human connection can do to clear away the insanity of thinking that I'm alone in all of this...this...human condition.

So, here are some more haiku. I was going to try to post some of the pictures of 'The Gates' from Central Park last February, but for some reason the Blogspot picture thingy isn't working as it should. This will be fixed, I hope, and I'll post the pics next week. Anyway, here are the haiku. Hope you like them!


#180
Such are beginnings,
born from sharp pain and labor,
then breathing, relieved.

#17
A scent of damp wood,
piles of smoking, burning, leaves,
a rake on the lawn.

#31
I hear the lovers
downstairs in their morning bed
flying seagulls cry


Johnnyboy

Just another day...

I showed yesterday's post to someone and they gave me the critic "How gloomy!". I disagree, of course. But that was yesterday.

Today I had to bring my car to the garage in Kingston for its checkup, plus a few other things. My appointment was for 8am, so I woke up at 6:30. Unfortunately I tossed and turned until 2:30 last night, so right now I'm pretty bushed. I think I'll go back to my bed and snooze through lunch. I also had to rent a car for the 2 days that mine will be in the shop and I had little choices at the rental place other than a GMC Envoy. It is huge compared to what I usually drive and I feel very uncomfortable driving the thing. It seems to hog the road, and on the little roads I drive on, there is no room for error on the shoulder. I found myself crossing the double yellow line many times on my way home this morning. It also guzzles gas. I'll use it only when absolutely necessary, I think, and borrow another car from a friend when I'm not .

I worry about a great many things these days, and I know that I shouldn't. I really have it made. I need to write a gratitude list to remind myself of all the gifts I have today.

1.A life of sobriety
2.Opportunities to grow
3.Safety, housing, and food
4.My loving family
5.Achievable and relevant goals

I also need to remember that although I have done some pretty bad things in the past, I am not a bad person. I have taken responsibility for and paid the price for those acts committed while under the influence of alcohol and drugs. My future, as well as just today, is perfectly clean and good. My ego-driven self pity tells me that I am not worthy of friendships or love, and that I will be alone forever. I am trying to understand that these are the thoughts that keep me isolated and lonely. I miss having a girlfriend and those intimate moments that are not all about sex. The quiet conversations, side by side, heads on pillows, before sleep. My past tells me that no one would want me. I am trying not to listen to those voices that say I am ugly, stupid, and bad.

These voices make me toss and turn at night while they point their bony fingers in my face.


Johnnyboy

Happy 4th of July...

I wonder how many blogs are being started with that phrase this morning? Probably more than we can imagine. Well, so be it. I had so much in my head a few minutes ago, as I was making my coffee, and it all sounded so good, so witty, so pithy and relevant. Now most of it is gone. What is left is the knowledge that even though I have lived in the USA for all of my life, I was not born in the USA. I am very happy about that. I was born in Ireland, while my parents were traveling about Europe. That lucky dual-citizenship gives me 2 passports, one US and one the coveted Republic of Ireland. I am also an EU citizen and am allowed to vote in EU elections, if I so choose. To be honest, I know very little about Irish politics, and not so much about European politics as a whole. If there is one thing I have learned it is that politicians are the same everywhere. The Europeans know this very well. Pols are a class all to themselves. They are understood to be 'do-nothing' types who, if it weren't for running for some kind of office, would be hanging around the pub spouting their rhetoric. There is a kind of sympathy and compassion held for the poor soul who never figured out how to be happy with his life and ends up trying to run the lives of others. Of course this doesn't apply to beloved leaders and revolutionaries like Havel and Yushchenko who arrived to steal away the country from the corruption of the Old Guard and return it to the people.

There is the opposite side of the fence as well. There have been, and always will be, charismatic snake-oil salesmen who will roll into town, charm the pants off of your wife, eat dinner in your home, and steal your money. The amazing thing is that, in the end, if you're not careful, you'll thank them and invite them back. These folks never work for the common good, and always end their careers amidst scandal, shame, and death. Do I need to list some names?
How about Eva and Juan Peron, Slobodan Milosovic, Pol Pot, ad nauseum. Failed actors, mediocre colonels, tinhat politicians, and sons and daughters of the idle rich all make excellent despots. I think it has something to do with knowing how to throw a good cocktail party. It's all window dressing and no substance. Kind of like those people who festoon their cars and homes with American flags, lest anyone think otherwise of them. What are they compensating for?
One flag is enough, for god's sake. Something so garish and gaudy shouldn't be flaunted so highly nor should it be wrapped to tightly around the person who decides to wave it.

The point is that I have put out my flag this morning, not because I support the current government of the United States of America, but precisely because I do not. It is our right, our priveledge, and our duty as citizens of this country to protest. We fly this flag not to remember the days gone by, or to honor the dead, but to thumb our collective noses at the despots around the world and at home and to remind them who is really in charge:

We the people...


Johnnyboy

Last July 3rd...

I was just thinking about how amazing my life has been, up to this point. The good stuff notwithstanding, I have had the actual experiences that other people try to capture in their fiction. My recovery, my time in jail, and my experiences traveling give me an edge in some ways over most folks. Nothing better than the real thing, IMHO.

Last July I was in jail. As the time in jail went it was OK, because I was counting days at that point in my stay. I had 60 left to go and had no idea what lay in store for me once I was released. I had a great deal of fear about the future, and my place in it. Where would I be a year from now, I mused...What are my immediate goals. I had set down 3 at that point:

1. To see Christo's 'The Gates' in Central Park, in February, 2005
2. To travel to Croatia and beyond for a month in the spring of 2005.
3. To apply and be accepted to Empire State College.

My paper for ESC is almost finished, just some tweaking left and it will be done, and almost two Weeks early. I've sent a first draft to my friend Paul, who is a writer, just for a second set of eyes. His wife Nan is a writer as well, so maybe she'll check it out as well. I am pretty lucky to be able to do this. These two are of a pretty high caliber, so to have them check out my writing is quite an honor.
Not much else to blather about today. I'm just grateful to be here, now, and be able to appreciate all the gifts that I've been given. Remember, a gift isn't a gift until it's been accepted by the other person. That is the other half of the contract.

So, I think on 'Haiku Tuesday' I'll post some pictures of 'The Gates' to go along with the jailhouse haiku...Maybe I'll take Aravis' lead and manipulate them with some Photoshop toys. :-)


Johnnyboy

Relief from the heat, and more...

The weather broke yesterday and opened up the skies, sending the hot, humid air packing, like a houseguest who has stayed too long. I actually used a blanket on my bed last night, which made me feel as if I was actually going to bed, instead of just lying there sweating. This change also gives me a little energy. I don't have to fight the heat, so my brain can think of other things. The most important thing is that I need to work on my essay for Empire State College. I think that most, if not all, of the text is down, but now I have to fiddle around, edit, rewrite, and generally turn the thing into something cohesive and readable. I spoke to my sponsor and he said it would be OK if I used words like 'alcoholism' and 'substance abuse' and 'recovery' in the essay. He reminded me that ESC probably has more than it's share of people, who, just like me, are restarting their lives after years of living in homemade insanities. So, once again, I am being reminded that I am not so special or unique and that honesty and forthrightness will serve me better than lying by omission or obfuscation.

It's also supposed to be clear and cloudless today so that gives me my own car to drive and enables my mother to have her car back. She is very generous and more than happy to lend me her vehicle, but I like my own car. She has a Ford Focus Coupe, which is actually a pretty nice little car. For an automatic it drives very well and has lots of kick. It's also very quiet and feels very small and lightweight on the road. My VW, on the other hand, is a bit noisier, weighs a ton (2200 lbs), is a standard, and feels much bigger than it is. It has plenty of get-up-and-go, but it takes more effort to get it there on the behalf of the driver. I do love it so. It's like driving some shiny, green, tank.

So this is the kind of day to get things done before I can goof off. I have my writing, and some gardening to tend to. I have also decided to stop eating so much meat, dairy, and cow cheese. With summer here I can indulge in a lot of fresh produce and salady stuff. Beans and other pulses (the technical term for beans, peas, and lentils) make an excellent substitute for meat, and it will give me a chance to cook that brown basmati rice I've had for the past month. Here's a quick recipe for a mixed salad that's good for anytime or with anything.

1 can of cannelini beans, drained and rinsed
1 can of chick peas, drained and rinsed
1 red onion, small dice
1 bunch asparagus, cut small and blanched
1 red bell pepper, small dice
1 tomato, cored, seeded, small dice
1 can of artichoke hearts, drained and in 1/4
3 cloves of garlic, minced
lots of fresh herbs, all chopped up (Simon and Garfunkel blend, plus basil)
the juice of 3 lemons
1/2 cup of extra virgin olive oil
salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste

Mix all this stuff together, let sit in the fridge for about an hour or so, give it another mix, taste it and adjust your lemon juice, olive oil (it may need more), and reseason with S/P if necessary.
Bon Apetit!


Johnnyboy

What a difference...

I woke up this morning after sleeping all night. Amazing. I didn't wake up at 4AM, or any other such scenario. I still plan on picking up my car today and driving it home, dodging the raindrops along the way. I checked the weather and it's supposed to be cloudy all day and a 50% chance of rain this afternoon. Those are odds with which I can gamble. The other thing is that I really don't want to leave my car where it is. It's in the same town where I used to live and where I hit my emotional, physical, spiritual, and legal, bottoms, so I am very wary to have too close a connection there outside of my recovery. So in a couple of hours my mother, the saint, will drive me to the garage and I'll pay $80 to the guy for his labor, hit a meeting, chat with friends, and hightail it home, about 25 miles. Cross your fingers.

All of the above is an example of how I must have control over my life. Having my car 25 miles away doesn't feel safe, so I must have it in the driveway. Whether I drive it or not within the next 6 days will be a total crapshoot, but having the car at home is my first priority. It just feels wrong not having my car. I feel like the guys at jail will know who I am, what I did years ago and will want to vandalize my vehicle in a sneaky way, like spraying WD-40 on the brake discs or something. This is all ego. No one knows who I am, no one remembers, and no one cares. I have since discovered that most people are self-centered to the point that if the news of the day doesn't directly effect them, they gloss over the facts and go straight to the comics and the horoscope. Notice I said "most", not "all".

My level of paranoia over my past can get pretty heavy sometimes. I panic whenever I see someone in a uniform or any kind of official vehicle. My shrink thinks that this is a response to being in jail for 19 months. PTSD. I tend to agree. It's sometimes funny, though, to panic over a uniformed person seen from a distance only to get near enough to see that they are a plumber or something. I guess it's not really funny. I'd like to laugh about the whole thing someday, but I don't see that happening. So for the time being, I'll sneak looks at police cruisers in my rearview mirror, certain that they are going to turn around and give chase; know that when the phone rings, and no one is on the line, that 'they' are just checking to make sure I'm at home; and make sure I check my brakes before I leave the garage...Just in case.

Johnnyboy