Stories

fireflies.jpgAhhh….end of summer.  Shooting stars spark August skies, like fireflies surprised my nights back East. When I was little, lightening bugs against a celestial backdrop made me micro, shuddering first at the size of the universe and how my life’s light merely flickers for a second in it, like theirs. Then I’d go macro and wonder if the teensy fireflies looked at humans and felt submicroscopic by comparison. Or were they far better off than girls like me losing sleep over such things. Fireflies never scared me; thoughts of my mortality did.

Ahh…quiet mornings with brilliant L.A. light….confluence of houseflies who found their way in through portals left open by window washers now stud clean glass seeking the sun. Fury overcoming fear, I attack, slap happy with my swatter. Now it’s hard to see out the cleaned windows around their drying corpses smearing the glass. Maybe one should only wash windows in winter.

Ahh…summer greenery caresses my cottage…and cobwebs decorated with gnat carcasses and teensy leaves line every corner in which they can be hitched.  Talented Daddy Long Legs lurk unseen between the eaves waiting to ensnare me in their astounding webs, or scare a scream out of me as they lurk in my bathtub. Why do they scare me so?

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fighting-couple-300x264Saturday morning, I was headed downtown for a walk with my dogs.   On the corner of West End and 116th street, we passed a couple in the midst of a tiff.  She was crying and he was saying “I want to say something that will make you feel better!”  She replied “Then say different stuff!!!”  I chuckled and slowed the dogs down to catch more of their fight- eager for a little distraction from my walk.  The fight wasn’t explosive though, it was just a steam blowing off-er.  I slipped my earbuds back in and trudged onward.

Two blocks later, another couple was fighting.  Actually, it was more of a mutual whine than a fight really.  This time, there was something that needed to be picked up at the store for their baby (that was anxiously cooing from the sling around dad’s neck) and neither wanted to do it because there was other stuff that needed to be done.  Again, there was sighing, head shaking and clenched fists from both contenders, but nothing that entertaining.

We crossed into the park and stopped suddenly when we hit yet another couple deep in conflict.  He was bellowing about dirty laundry and she was yarping about laundromat quarters.  I honestly thought I was on some hidden camera show or something.  Three couples in less than 10 blocks?  Was this sunny day in May a secret relationship Armageddon?  I wiped the pond of sweat from my upper lip and thought, “Huh… maybe”.

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roastchicken.jpgFor me there is no food more appealing than roast chicken. I'd be happy to subsist on it all the time. Instead of roasting a whole chicken, which can take an hour or more, I prefer roasting chicken in pieces. It's so much faster especially for a weeknight meal. I love roasting chicken breasts, sometimes a whole bunch at one time. This way I have leftovers for dinner the following night or I can enjoy it for lunch atop a salad the next day. For dinner though, especially when I'm pressed for time, I like to make simple sides. And there's nothing more simpler than roasting vegetables alongside the chicken. Plus with this recipe the chicken and the vegetables both finish at the same time. Now that sounds like a simple supper.

For this recipe I chose to roast carrots and kohlrabi. Their flavors concentrate and sweeten from the high oven heat. Kohlrabi, a turnip-like vegetable with a broccoli flavor, which many people would most likely pass in the market without a second thought, is actually one of my favorite vegetables. I love them in soup, but this roasting method makes them taste even better. With only seven ingredients, this is probably the least fussiest recipes you will ever find. And the end result is so rewarding that you will want to make it again and again. With so little preparation spent in the kitchen there's more time to kick back, relax, and enjoy a glass of wine, perhaps a Chardonnay, to toast the mellow evening.

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barbecue-nc-thumb.jpg I was particularly popular last week. It began with the arrival of our pin up boy president, Barack Obama, just blocks from my house. Since local streets were closed to prevent us local aliens from crashing the political party, and no one was going anywhere, I decided to throw a blocked by Barack block party in my front yard, to celebrate our proximity to all the action at the Beverly Hilton. I fired up the gas grill and texted the next door neighbors whose kids sent tweets to others to bring sweets and treats, and we all e’d others and within an hour we drew a crowd. Folks “came as they were” with whatever was in their refrigerators “as it was.” I have no idea what the expiration dates were on most of the U.F.O’s (unidentified frying objects) on my barbecue, but I sauced, smoked and fed about fifteen denizens of my block who flocked with sniffly progeny to my yard for a gangland eating orgy. Partay!

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