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June, 2010

Was this hate mail?

The bees are finally gone and my agapanthus flowers are opening up.  Life is good.  I’m taking pictures and baking cookies again. My cookbook got delayed the last few weeks but I’m back on track, hoping to get the recipes all done, tested, and written up by the end of the year.  I still get emails from people who really liked my first cookbook but one email jolted my ego a bit. “I bought your cookbook for a dollar at a garage sale and love your recipes. It’s my new go-to book.” Huh??…. Oh no you didn’t…..  A dollar??…. A garage sale??…. How is that supposed to make me feel?  Is that a compliment or was this hate mail?  I’m still trying to decide how I feel.

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Tequila is not my friend


Last night I was craving Mexican food so we went to El Torito.  We’ve been there over the years and it was always dependable so this time, I was even going to have a margarita. That was my first mistake but I’ll get to that later. They fry their own tortilla chips and brought those first, so greasy they had a sheen.  They should have served them with latex gloves.  The main reason for going to El Torito is they make guacamole at your table.  The guacamolier put in too much salt, so now we have bad guacamole on an oil-slicked chip. But my margarita (I rarely drink alcohol) was keeping my standards low as I awaited my crispy tacos.  Did I say crispy?  Imagine the greasy tortilla chips only bigger. And heavier.  I picked one up and the weight & viscosity caused the bottom to fall out into a greasy mess.  The Gulf of Mexico came to mind.  Was it the Mexican food, or was it the oil slick on my plate?  By the end of my margarita, I imagined the kitchen staff washing pelicans in the back sink.  When we got up to leave, I felt a bit dizzy (of course – alcohol on an empty stomach!) and only wanted to take a nap.  Or eat.  The next time I crave Mexican food and see an El Torito, I’ll make like that west Texas town… el Pass-o.

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The bees are mocking me

The bees are back. The exterminators have been here three times, they removed the hive from the attic, they sprayed inside and out, and they came back a third time just to say “good riddance.” So last night I went in my bathroom and there were a dozen bees flying around.  Actually, there was a dead one on my toothbrush!!  Yughkk!! My bathroom is directly below that section of the attic and when you turn on the ceiling lights, it draws the bees. They are mocking me and I don’t like it, but I will win this one.

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The kind of man I have

My stepmom and her husband have been here for two weeks and can hardly wait to get home, but they drove here in their own car.   After his final checkup today, I thought her husband would be hospitalized again because he’s not recovering as well as we hoped, but he refused to be re-admitted and wants to go home.  He can’t drive in his condition, and the idea of my stepmom driving to Las Vegas is…. well, read my blog entry of June 19th.  Without any hesitation, my boyfriend and life partner said to them, “Let’s get in the car, I’ll take you home right now.” They were packed in about 20 minutes and they all left at 7:45 p.m.  It’s 10 p.m. right now and they’re only half way there.  Since there were no late flights for him to get back, he’s renting a car and driving back tonight… well, tomorrow really. He’ll be back in the middle of the night.  They are not his family, they’re mine, but this is the kind of man I have.  I’ve always known he would do anything for me, or someone in need, but I realized tonight just how special he really is.  I know he will always be there for me and I know that not everyone is lucky enough to have that.  I’m going to try and wait up.

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Should I laugh or cry?

Yesterday, my stepmom insisted she wanted to drive to the drug store.  I offered to take her but she didn’t want me to so I drew her a map and it was only two turns. It should have taken 1/2 hour but she was gone for almost two hours but did get home safely.  I asked how the drive was and she said, “Boy, the drivers here are so rude, always honking at everybody.”  I said, “Do you think they were honking at you?”  She said, “Oh no, they weren’t honking at me – it was for other people.”

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Aging parents – it’s not easy

Both my biological parents are deceased but my stepmom (of 50 years) is here with her second husband, the one who had stomach cancer surgery at the VA Hospital. He is out of the hospital and on a very restricted diet and they are leaving for home (Nevada) next week.  She insists she can drive but also says she can’t read the road signs until she’s right under them.  Denis says he will drive them home next week, but what if they say no?  She is supposed to take care of her husband but forgets certain things and some of them matter.  It’s very clear she is not as able as she needs to be but what am I supposed to do?  They live alone and shouldn’t.  They both think they’re still 25. How do you convince them they should not be driving, and that they should move to a senior-assisted place?  This is difficult.

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A new job for my plastic hawk

The gardeners just knocked on the door to tell me they found another rattlesnake. They always get out their camera-phones and take pictures.  Did I mention there was a regular (non-rattle) snake here last week, sunning himself on the air conditioner?  It’s thoughtful of the gardeners to come and show me their catch every time, usually dangling at the end of a rake.  It’s the second rattlesnake this season and it was right next to my tomato plant!  What am I supposed to do?  What eats snakes?  I know… hawks!  I have a new job for my plastic hawk.

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They’re baaaack

The bees are back.  I thought they got pulverized into oblivion but I guess their relatives are conducting a search and rescue mission.  It appears they are entering under the roof just like before so the exterminators are coming back tomorrow to hit them again.  I think they smell the honey inside – I guess they’re just doing what males do… risking their lives for the scent of a woman.

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Bees in my Bathroom

Like there’s not enough to do with my stepmom here and her husband still in the hospital, now I have bees in my closet.  I found where they were coming in, which was up on the roof.  So the exterminator came and sprayed to eliminate the bees (they were not happy campers when he showed up) and then the bee-bomber will be back next week to remove the hive they’ve been building in the attic walls.  I guess they’ve been there before because they found around 50,000 dead bees up there.  The magic word here is “dead.”  You don’t see many women bee exterminators.  We could do it cheaper since some of us already have big hats with nets.

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