fly lady

That's me... cause I'm flying by today. And this is my website...and this is all you get... so forget your messy house, settle in and put your feet up cause fly lady just had an attitude adjustment and found out she likes herself better this way...
So, today was a day for errands. Around 1, decided to stop flying and have coffee... which I did- to the delightful accompaniment of some singer who either is or isn't driving home for Christmas. The next song wished us all a Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year...and then there was White Christmas. The first xmas song I heard here in Ukr was at McDondalds in Lviv with Jim and Caroline... in March... so I guess we're actually early still. Who knew.


So, fly out of the coffee shop, down to the underground passage...there's an older lady down there busking... you know, she was singing and you could give her money for it if you wanted- and let me tell you, she was good...very good. I bought batteries nearby just to hang around and listen. So, after the battery sale is completed, Mrs Busker abruptly stops, so I look. Well, that bane of a quiet and peacable life- a drunk- was hanging onto her- he must have had something very important to say. She didn't exactly look happy about it and people kept right on marching by, so I sort of ambled off to the side where I could, you know, keep an eye on things because I really had to install those batteries right then and there... he was rather a large person, so I wasn't too anxious to jump in but I had a hard time walking away, too... so I stayed and watched for a min or so. Just when Mrs B started to look truly distressed (how would you like a drunk literally hanging on you, blowing his smelly breath in your personal breathing space and pushing you?) and I decided she needed my help- in swoops a man from out of nowhere- young, about 30. He puts his arm around her shoulder, turns her away from Mr Drunk and starts earnestly talking to her. Mrs B looks like things are moving rather fast for her and the drunk looks confused and I decide to just hang around and make sure we don't have 2 bad guys here... But Mr 30-something is really nice, he sort of maneuvers her away from Mr D and then Mr D just looks confused and shuffles off... and Mrs B has a 100 hryvyn bill shoved in her hand by Mr 30-something and then he left, too. I smiled at her, she smiled back. It was too good to miss.


So next, we stop at the electronics store to ask where to take P's old camera to have it fixed. Well, I'm thinking it's up north at a certain place, just don't have the address anymore and it's a shot in the dark, basically, trying to get there- better to ask I decide. Mr 20-something- very friendly, helpful, eager and so forth- he's just that. Gives me an address but has no idea how to get there. Can't find the street on my map. He finds it online and prints the page off for me... see how helpful and all that he is? Of course, this is at a completely different location than I had in mind... hmmm... well- off I go.
It starts to drizzle.
I get off the metro at the right stop and head down a big hill. Looking at my map. A few turns but things aren't quite matching up with the map... finally figure out just where I am- and the street that I want should be right here- like between this corner and that bridge up there- head off towards the bridge- on the wrong side of the street- very busy street and no crosswalk (and in case you're wondering, you can now get hefty fines for jay-walking in Kyiv...and there are people around to tell their sad tales of that)- so what to do??? I'm tired. It's drizzling... dart across the first 3 lanes and wait in the middle- a line of cars cresting the hill at the bridge and I decide- you'd better go now cause there's another mess coming from the other direction- so off I go... right in front of... pass out
you got it
a cop...
fly, lady, fly...
I nearly ran up the hill. Risked a glance over my shoulder-the cop has pulled over and turned his overhead lights on... I'm in shock...(I mean- I do not need to have that kind of hassle on a foreign passport, I can tell you that much)
I kept moving- uphill (this might explain how I missed something vital)- anyway- I never did find out what that dude had pulled over for but not me...I think I lost a few years off my life right then, though
So, on I go. Over the bridge- this isn't right. Re-examine the map. Two, in fact. I obviously missed my street. Back I go. No street. I must be in a twilight zone... did the cop scare me so bad that I actually disapparated or something? Am I still where I was? Yup.
hmmmm
Then I see people materializing *poof* onto the sidewalk in front of me... just about where I landed when I was fleeing from that cop. On closer investigation, I see



a set of steps,

does this look like someplace you'd go looking for an electronics repair store?

a secret passageway,

a parking lot at the end of it...

and a street out in front of that. The poor street just sort of dies there but it is there...

It's nearly magic, really, the way they've gone and hidden that street down there in some other dimension nearly.

So- find my building- security guard out front. Can't get past him without paying in blood- tell him what I need. Oh, he says; They moved. To Obolon metro stop (this, I might add, is where I thought I needed to go to begin with but because sweet nice still-has-acne just-out-of-school Mr Helpful says otherwise, I've come here)

Wow. Mr Security Guard writes down the exact address for me, tells me which tram I'll need and a whole lot of other helpful stuff... I do the last 20 min in reverse. Including the jay-walking. Excluding the cop and the hunt for the street. Hoof it all the way back to the train station and start again.

It starts to rain.

Wade through puddles, turn corners, talk to tram drivers, passengers, people on the street- fly lady's wings are getting tired and I just don't want to do any more of this extra stuff...

More security guards, gates, doors, armed complexes (well it feels like it)- ahhhh- a nice well-lit reception room, people who are helpful and really truly know what they're doing, paperwork, receipts... call back in a week. I'm gone.

It rains harder.

One more errand- looking for a bus that our very dear and very truly very nice friend insists exists... and all the nice people at the very muddy and puddly bus stop say- Up There. Where- in the sky or what? You think I really can fly? There are no more lines of people waiting for buses, no more spots at the curb for buses to pull up to... but plenty of muck to wade through. There are just no more options for this potential bus.

And it's getting dark by now.

The bus is a phantom... it must be. I leave. Someone will have to disillusion it... or me... or something.

It starts to snow.

I go home.

It snows more... and more...

And the canal out front's freezing again.

On the up side, our from-out-of-town friend can't leave town tonight after all, has more job training tomorrow and we have a very pleasant post-supper chat with him. He's the dad of these dolls.

Oh- and I had fake baked nachos for supper... with lots of salsa and cheese.

Fly on, lady, fly on...

chatting with Miss JM

Awhile ago, I chatted via webcam and skype with my little Owen nephie... he's got such a deep voice and I hadn't ever chatted much with him; when I last saw him, he was only 1 1/2 after all.

Well tonight I called my sis- it's her birthday today!! :) Somebody urgently needed Momma's help so Miss JennaMae sat down in front of the webcam and began telling stories- like lots of them. Mind you, I couldn't get every word- but it was hilarious. I've hardly ever chatted with her, either- she's always been too bouncy and such, can't slow down long enough to really focus you know. Well tonight... tonight was a good one. After a few minutes, I started saving screen shots from the cam which I just now cropped. Here she is!

she was mostly telling about her little sis, Miki, being sick- apparently it's been memorable... she also covered Madagascar, making cookies with Maxine and Daudy (GrossDaudy)'s death. Needless to say, the facial expressions were the highlight of the conversation!

Here she was telling me: Princess thinks my hand is an ice cream cone! (Princess is the dog- was licking her hand)

Miki had a few things to say, too... she's the sick-o... poor kid

Ah- my sis! So, hope your Birthday was only getting better, Sweet Sis-o-Mine! xo

smuggling revisited

Heard an interesting tale last month... true story about someone I know...only I can't remember which someone exactly- but as you'll soon see, that's not all that important. Remember this? And how it happens every time the trains cross from here into Poland? And how our dear Fellow Ukrn's (well, OK- so I use this term somewhat loosely since I'm not exactly a Ukrn and since I don't actually know any smugglers...but I have been in close proximity with a few)- so they love to smuggle- or some of them do. Pirated/fakes/whatever-you-want-to-call-it goods made here, packaged with a famous name brand label, smuggled into Poland and then sold for supposed instant profit.
So, my acquaintance had been here in Ukr visiting us, in fact (imagine). He takes the train back to Poland where he tells this rather interesting story. Finally got through all the Customs stuff, Border Patrol is off the train, train is moving once more...and even more importantly, the toilet has been opened for business again... in he goes. At some point during his 'stay' in that little tiny room, the ceiling suddenly opens up and a lady drops down out of there, nearly on top of him... no joke... Just a smuggler, getting all her wares together into one bag again...
I heard this story from someone who'd been on the train and watched the whole thing happen. (important point- vodka is often carried on the smuggler's body, in sealed clear plastic food storage-type bags- long and narrow. Then the smuggler lines his sleeves, pant legs, whatever with the bags... you get the pic.) So, this one woman has been strapping them all over herself- like she looked like one of those life-size helium balloons by the time she was done- all taped on with packing tape. She can barely move- can't really bend her arms or legs-and the weight... mamma mia... and it's hot... like really hot... with all that plastic and such. Well at this particular border crossing, all passengers had to get off the train and walk through the customs area. This woman gets part way but then tips over... and there she is, rocking around like a turtle on its back... and she can't get up. No. She. Can't. (this was pre-Obama, apparently) Pre-Bob the Builder, too (and if you get that connection, you've got a 3 year old in your life!) The border guards are standing around laughing. Falling over themselves laughing. No one lends a hand- they know what the problem is. Finally the man in charge says, Lady, if you can get up on your own and walk across the border, you're in; if not, we ship you back. Well, this is just the motivation Miss Turtle needs- with a final heroic heave, sweat pouring off of her, up she gets and toddles off. And true to their word, they let her go...

More meandering

I've never actually played this game but have heard (and seen) a whole lot about it. So, when I saw this, I had to look! For the Catan fans out there... check this out! :)

This is the school my dad attended as a boy... pic showed up in a photostream feed and I thought it looked familiar; Mom confirmed that it is the one- about 1 1/2 mi from Daudy's farm. It has fallen into major disrepair; my childhood memories of it are a tad less rundown! This is just in front of the school; taking the road just barely visible at the right side of the pic would take you to Daudy B's. The other road in the pic is a windy, meandering piece of work. I've always liked the area- quiet and very rural. Homes are well-kept.

This one is dedicated to Ethel... who isn't on a diet, per se... but close enough. I feel for her. I really do. So enjoy your peppermint tea Miss E and hang in there!

And this is me just now... flickering away like the cheapest of light bulbs... here I thought that was because of the poor electric supply/wiring... who knew it might be the light bulb's fault?!?!?!

hook, line and sinker

I bit- the new (for me) blog virus...

Lucky you! The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
2. What I create will be just for you.
3. It'll be done this year. (might be a little while)
4. You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a story. It may be poetry or an article on properly cleaning your face before a masque. I may draw or paint something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!
5. I reserve the right to do something extremely strange. The catch? Oh, the catch is that you must repost this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same on your blog.

The first 5 people to do so and leave a comment telling me they did win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me! Oh, and be sure to post a picture of what you win when you get it!So....who will be the first 5 people?????

I've been catching up with various things all evening- had another white sheet moment- am eating soda crackers to compensate. I think this is fitting, though... I hear ya, Linus, I hear ya

and the next time someone asks why I wear glasses, I have a new answer all ready for them...

part of catching up is clearing out my google reader feeds- where I found this post on what we call 'avto-stopom'- as in, I went there 'avto-stopom'- it means you didn't have a bus ticket, you just hung out beside the road and flagged down whoever would stop. Oh, so you think that's hitch-hiking??? hmmm- well, it sort of is- only here, there is often a spot where many people collect who are heading in a general direction. Any driver looking for a bit of help with gas $$ swings by and fills up with passengers if they're heading his way. Here, we sometimes hold a sign with our destination on it (as opposed to the driver posting a sign). We've had some interesting rides that way... some forgettable ones, too. The DC people must be might generous if they don't want a few bucks, that's all I have to say about them...

more google reader stuff. Mental Floss 50 States quiz... fun

this Bizarro made me LOL go Louis L'Amour!!!

this from Neatorama- for all my I-can't-get-enough-of-trams-in-my-real-life pals... (direct link to page make sure to click on the Eng lang button if you want it to make sense)

making cheese... I think I might figure out how to make real honest-to-goodness cheddar cheese. Yes, you can buy 'cheddar cheese' here, but believe me, in this case, it belongs in quotes... it tastes like every other cheese... And I do miss cheddar cheese... sharp cheddar cheese... oh. my.

and this one; now if I only knew why eating raw onions make me sick... and what to do about that (since the national food here seems to be salads made with raw onions); well ok- one thing you can do is dice the nasty things and then put them in a small kettle, cover with equal parts white vinegar and water, liberally sprinkle with black pepper and then bring to a boil. Remove from heat, rinse onions and use. Sure they have a slightly different taste but they're tolerable... in fact, they're not too bad like this... and double in fact- Alleykat, I totally take issue with you on your recent point made somewhere that we always eat hamburgers with raw onions so as not to get sick because of anti-bacterial properties of said villainous onions... you won't get sick eating a hamburger that's got raw onions on it because.... (bom-ba-duh-bom) You won't eat it!!! hahahahahaha Well, I won't get sick.... (and does anyone else recall a certain 3 year old who looked like he was 8 helping chop raw onions in the salad dept at Menom one year? So what's up with that, anyway- I mean, why were we doing it???- well anyway, he put matchsticks in his mouth... can't remember how that was supposed to work, but we were all so desperate that we tried it...)

Yes, there is more important stuff going on; I think it's called a mental health break... or some such thing.

Vernon Daudy

It wasn't a long wait... My little brother, Ken, skyped an hour ago with the news; I'm glad he and Miss and the boys could be there this weekend. My little sis, Gina, is looking for tickets to fly back. They were still trying to get in touch with my other brother, Paul. Dad and Mom are with Dad's family.

Last night before going to sleep, I was remembering Grandpa. We always called him 'Vernon Daudy'- 'daudy' is 'grandpa' in their/our dialect; Vernon is my dad's only brother and making his name part of Grandpa's title made it clear to us kids which Grandpa we were talking about, a common practice among the Amish. He was always a big gentle man (I thought of him as big; in reality, he wasn't all that big... just bigger than me). He loved to hold little kids and I'm sure I had 'knee time' when I was little. I was born when Mom and Dad still lived with them, but Mom and Dad moved to a separate place fairly soon after that. When I was little and we'd go to their place, he was always out working- I remember walking back across the pastures with (Aunt Luella? Uncle Vernon? Dad? not even sure who now) looking for Grandpa, finding him back there in a field or a pasture... we roamed Grandpa's cow barn, too. It was an amazing place- in my memory. I loved to be down in the 'kee schtall' when they were milking... and I loved to hang around the tank where they cooled off the milk cans- they milked by hand, poured the milk by the bucketful through a filter into big metal cans, then fitted a lid down onto the cans and stood them in a tank of cold water. Someone told us we'd drown (this is how I remember it, at any rate) if we got into that tank and I was fascinated by it. There was a stock tank down in the lower part of the barn, too, that fascinated me even more- I suppose it was 'drownier' or something- it was certainly dark. Later, Grandpa and Grandma built a 'Daudy Haus' (Grandpa House) just up the hill from their big old house and moved into that so that Uncle Vernon could live in the big house with his family. In the early years after moving into that smaller house, Grandpa still spent lots of time outside and stopping by the house wouldn't necessarily find you Grandpa. The last times I was there, though, he was nearly always sitting in his big chair in the living room. He looked cold a lot and had slowed down so much. After I graduated from high school, I never was around that part of the state so much again, so the changes were more dramatic. But Grandpa was there, in the living room- he liked to hear about what was going on. Where are you? What are you doing? Is it interesting? I think he suffered from depression the last several years- sometimes sitting there and crying. Most recently, they were worried that he'd fall- he already had and with no phone in the house, there was no way to get help fast if there was a need. People had to stop by often to check on them. And they did. Uncle V and his large family just down the hill on the home place- they have one daughter, Susan who is the unabashed pet of the whole family- and she's a cute sweet little thing. Our cousin Ray and his also large family right across the road from them. And then several daughters and their families nearby; my dad about 20 min by car- they all checked in frequently.
Our family history includes awkward times, especially with my dad's family- but Daudy's love towards us grandkids was never a question.
He was 88 and 4 months. In April, he and Grandma would have been married 68 years.
I have one pic of him- a not-very-good one from my brother's wedding- taken from a distance. Dad's side of the family has never been keen on having pix taken- but the wedding photographer, a friend of Ken and Miss', pretended not to know and just shot away at the reception. The pic is somewhere in my stuff at Dad and Mom's. Last night, I was really wishing I'd insisted on getting pix of all 4 grandparents when I was home...

Just after my 'big career change'- back in 1994- a soon-to-be coworker and I were driving through the town I've always thought of as my 'hometown' even though I've never lived in it. We were headed down the side street by the dentist's office- she'd never seen a lot of Amish people and we may have even been up at Mom's parents that day, don't remember. There was an Amish man walking down the sidewalk with his back to us and she was noticing him. I said There goes someone's cute little Amish grandpa. We drove past and I looked back and pulled over. It was my Vernon Daudy. He was glad to see us. :)

at times you feel far away

I've been lucky- very lucky. Both my mom's and dad's families are large; there were always plenty of cousins to play with at family gatherings and lots of aunts and uncles...and up until 2 1/2 years ago, I still had both sets of grandparents- and Grandma B and Grandpa J always wrote. Longevity seems to run in the family- on both sides. Grandma J had been in failing health for a long time and I was very glad to see her when I was home, although she didn't know me. She didn't know a lot of things- but one thing she knew- 'Home' was where Grandpa was; if he was there, they were home; if he wasn't, they needed to go home. Grandma J was in her early 90's when she died. Grandpa J is the oldest of them all but will likely outlive them all. He's spry, sharp... and I chatted with him via webcam not so long ago!
Grandma B had a bad spell and was in the hosp for (it seemed like a long time- was it a week?- All I know is the nurses thought she was adorable- she wears a night cap to bed; they'd never seen anything like her)...that was while I was home, so 2 years ago. Grandpa B, however, has long been frailer than Grandma. In the last year, there have been several incidences of falling; he's had seizures and needed med for that. Earlier this week, he landed in the hosp. At first they thought it was a stroke; then said possibly a seizure. For awhile he perked up... Thurs night, he had a massive heart attack... now we're just waiting.
My relationship with my grandparents was never what it is for some people but they cared for me, for us and I'm glad to have had them this long. Leaving the States 2 years ago was a bit tougher knowing that the likelyhood of seeing them again was slim. It feels funny thinking about them being gone- like a piece of me is missing- a funky puzzle with a couple of pieces missing. And although I've been with lots of people at this stage of life, in our family, it's hardly ever happened- as I said, longevity seems to run in the family.

Bicycles are...

Instruments of torture. With all due respect to my Laura-out-west friend...and anyone else who 'likes' them...[likes...likes???...this is a huge stretch for my imagination] happy biking...happy aching...happy huffing and puffing and dodging mud puddles and muddy-ing up every inch of you below the knees. I happily leave you to it. You can thumb your nose at me, laugh at me, call me a wimp- whatever. I'm big enough, strong enough to take it. But thanks- I'd rather walk.

And yes, I speak from experience.

And it seems my Grandpa is doing a bit better- still in the hospital but didn't necessarily have a stroke- maybe a seizure? Not that most of you knew anything about that... I'm telling you now. I'm happy if he's better than they thought.

Good Night.

Taking a break

Staying with these little monkeys again! I don't know how it is that I always get to hang out with the little kids but it's all right with me! :) Anyway, we've had a nice time. These pix...mostly just clowning around. I have a list of emails I want to write- hopefully can get to them soon. Until then- you all take care!

Yippee Skippee Batman!

Phyllis and I are on our way back from a packed-full-of-good-things jaunt up North. The past 24 hours were good but rather busy. So bus stops in Kovel for about 20 min. You can get a lot done in 20 min. You can run around looking for special слабогазована water for your friend. (I'm not sure what it is either- only it's got less fizz than regular fizzy water.) And you can see a bookstore and zip in and emerge 2 min later with Paolini's 3rd book, Brisingr, in Ukrainian. Now we'll see what happens to our somewhat clueless and mostly intrepid hero and his faithful dragon. I've been wondering...

Toy overload...otherwise known as therapy for the spirit!

A bunch of pix... Because I can't leave any of them out! The 2 littlest kids are bro & sister- Andriy is 5 months old. His big sister, Sasha is 3. Babies- especially fat smiley ones like Andriy- are always fun. Sasha is at a darling age and has always been loveable & cuddly.

The other pix are all of Bohdan (11) and Anya (5). They are niece and nephew of a very good friend and co-worker. Nobody's really more special than anyone else right? But, maybe because of my own 6 "babies" (you know, my parent's grandkids!) who get their Auntie A cuddles via skype and a webcam, these 2 are as close to more special as you'll likely get! It was good to have some time with them again! We built a house, towers, cameras and "stuff" and then put our cameras on wheels. One of the pix shows Anya taking a pic with her lego-camera...she could wear it as a crown, too.

fast update

Here's a recent candid shot just for interest; obviously, there are a lot of people not in it...but a few maybe familiar faces for some of you.


Here in Kyiv for just about 24 hours...had to make the most of it! Lots of talking. Lots of laundry. Unpacking. Repacking. Hunting for stuff. And reformatting my little friend, Pippin... otherwise known as iPAQ/pocket pc/pda/whatever. Oh! and Skyping- with a few people! Yay!





Now we're soon leaving. Several have asked about the gas crisis here- we're fine and have been all along. This happens pretty much every year- would you be surprised to know that it's 99% politics? Nope, guess that is no surprise. Unfortunately Europe has suffered more than we have as Ukraine has reserves; some of the EU countries had none or very little. So, Thanks for you concern! All's well (as ever) here! Here's an article about the latest Ukr/Rus gas deal.

By the way

Cooking at Rachel's is exciting...you get to use this way cool chopping knife... Not to mention have Belgian chocolate for dessert afterwards.

Still snowing too

Nothing like what I've seen in pix from the Mid-West though. Nothing like as cold as there either.

Just in case you thought I was joking

about that chocolate

Great day!

Yup it really is. Mysteriously... Magically... Seeing as how yesterday just sort of never ended and merged itself (not flawlessly) into today. It all started with a night train after a nice day with nice people. The train dumped me out in Simferopol, Crimea... In the middle of a blizzard. Rachel's here. Great to see her again. The first thing she did was force me to take a nap...at 5am... That's when the train arrived. Then she force-fed me some super yummy spicy sour Thai soup (I'm sure you didn't notice the absence of breakfast there...I mean, I did have it... A few minutes before lunch.) Then... Gasp... Rachel jammed this Belgian chocolate right down my throat... I fought bravely but am just no match for a 90 pound 4 foot tyrant like her... Nope... You Know Belgian Chocolate... Made in Belgium...the kind they say is the best in the world. (I haven't even noticed those 2 direct-from-Belgium boxes at the end of the table here to my right...and I would CERTAINLY never even DREAM of opening them to see what's going on inside...not even to make sure nothing's getting lonely or discouraged... Or cold or anything. Nope. Not me.)

But back to this being a mysteriously magically good day. As you may or may not know by now, a night train can never be represented by such a simple 2-word phrase. Not when little Anastasia is next door. Not when she howls half the night. Because Mom won't give her something. Because Mom won't let her run up and down the corridor. Because she bumped herself AGAIN because she won't hold still. Because it's blisteringly hot...even with the door open....even with a blanket on top of the heater...

Ah yes- it's a good day! :)

Mobile blogging is great

when it works. But once again, my Pix didn't posts so, I'll re-post...if you feel inclined to comment, please do so on the pix posts; I'll delete the defective posts when I get back to my lap-top.

Dear Mom, Thanks.

I fixed my boots. Finally. The stuff you sent was perfect for the job. Yay!

'sneaky cell phone pix', part 3

see story below

grrrr

Odessa pix 2nd attempt...

Odessa!

We zipped through Odessa yesterday morning. Had an hour after breakfast before our bus left, so Someone got a van and took us all out to the port. These are all from the passenger port- as in, You know, cruise liners, private yachts and sailboats and such. I love it. Never was there at 8 am before- the sun was beautiful.

Statue is of a sailor's wife and child, waving Husb/Daddy off. Odessa is full of women whose husbands are professional sailors... including our friend, Anya. Her hubby is home right now; this last stint was only about 4 months. His last several before this, he was at sea 9 months at a time then home for 3. This is the 1st time in 6 years he's been here in winter...

Sneaky cell phone pix

It was fascinating to sit across from these 2 on the metro the other day. The man on the left did most of the talking. And he had his eyes closed most of the time. His speech was sincere, deliberate and emphatic but he never raised his voice. To hear him, you'd have thought he was talking to his son who was about to get married... or to a young astronaut about to step out of the space shuttle for his first space walk. Instead the conversation was about car repair or ice fishing or some such thing. Heidrun stood by them until the fumes about knocked her out. They were just drunk enough to know all the world's problems and to know just how to gently solve them all... none of which was more serious than their most recent ice fishing trip. Being drunk must be pleasant in such a case... Should I try it for tomorrow? Like about 1:20 PM? I'll bet it wouldn't solve my problem... Or make my life pleasant...

Guess who's

in Argentina? Daddy loves to travel. Mommy's birthday was Jan 1. Special days in Argentina. Baby got to go, too. Ever heard tell of the Cutie Pies? Well this is 2/3 of the Cutie Pie family. Alas, Baby doesn't know me anymore and was scared of me. Broke my heart. Sighhhh...

And we, Folks, are engaged in my all-time favorite activity even as we speak. Yep, we're on a train. Night train. 3rd class this time. Upper bunks. 2 inches of wiggle room. Ahhh this is the life... Fun times. 2nd pic is obviously NOT a Cutie Pie. 3 guesses who THAT is... First 2 don't count...

cilantro makes great....

Salsa! Yumm!
See that lady there? The one with the 3 kids? (Can you tell she's just adopted those kids? Do they look pretty happy?)
It's all true.
Anyway, that lady...the one named Mary. Yup, her. She was here with her husband... he's around here somewhere, too... hard to find pix of him, though...

Here he is overseeing some meal or other... I mean that's Elaine overseeing the meal but Mr Husband- otherwise known as Eric- he's the one over there on the left looking down there to see if those kids are behaving....

Anyway, E & M- now you know who they are! Well, see Mary, she heard we were making chicken enchiladas for supper the other night so she got the bright idea of making salsa and bringing it over... (no one around here likes salsa... ahhhhh, no... we LOVE it, adore it, admire and all that it, but... never mind- you get the point)- so, we were quick to agree. Yes, Mary, that's a fantastic idea. And it was. And it was fantastic salsa, too, I wanna tell ya. There's still a bit left, although I've done my part to make sure it doesn't spoil or anything...

Now everyone knows that salsa really REALLY goes with chips... dipping chips... TORTILLA chips... which you can't get here... at least I don't know where if you can. Now, being the chip freak that I am, I'd already discovered long ago that you can do this:

cut up your tortillas into chip-sized bits, heat some oil in a skillet and give them each about 10 seconds per side; remove, drain and salt....

Well the kicker here is Alack and Alas- no tortillas here either (as in taco-shell tortillas- are there any other kind??? don't know)- and while SOME culinary foody-types make their bona-fide own, it's just never been my thing...

but we do have Armenian flat bread- and I don't have a pic of that...and since the camera is in Colin and Elaine's room and since it's not really 'civil hours' anymore and since their light's off and in the interest of staying on somewhat good terms and all... and plus, the house is asleep and I'm the only one up and rustling through the freezer to find the rest just isn't the thing since I do have a camera on my phone (you still with me?)- ok- No pic of the Lavash (which is what Armenian flat bread is called)... but just sort of rewind the above pic to where those brown squares are all a small part of a very large, white, crepe-thin-but-dry-and-floury, oval shaped 'bread' (bearing in mind that tacos are 'bread' too... and if you know lefse, imagine that, only not at all sweet)- ok- cut that stuff up, fry it, salt it... pretty close...

Here you go! May I just say it was delicious! So good that I just devoured a couple (3 or 4 *cough*) pieces of French bread (they're small pieces you know) in order to get a little more salsa...

And guess what?

That salsa got hotter just sitting there in the jar a few days... wow...

Want a quick recipe? Here you go!

at least 5 tomatoes

1 bell pepper

1 head (not clove) garlic

3 hot chili peppers

1 med onion

salt

as much cilantro as you like (the more the better IMHO)
mix all ingredients; put in blender and whizz briefly- you want some chunk left!

Now I have to go brush my teeth... again... it was worth it... g'night!