The crostini, olive oil and cheese reminded me of a chapter in a Pendergast novel I read a few years back.  While looking for his evil brother Diogenes, Pendergast winds up at the Mediterranean villa of a beautiful widow whom he finds tending to her vineyards.  They and another retire to an outdoor table overlooking her beautiful grounds and she serves them iced white wine of her own vintage, and fresh loaves of crusty bread to dip into the olive oil also made by her villa.

I’m going to hang colonial blue curtains in the kitchen window.  I tried it as a test run draping it over the rod, and it’s lovely with the read and white tavern tablecloth and the other things in the kitchen. Warms it up a lot.  Perhaps on the horizon is a yellow tablecloth.  Sheer colonial blue curtains.

I think for Chrismtas, with the brucholoni, I am going to make a broccoli rab from those huge Creole brocs Dorignac’s carries each year, and a breadcrumb sort of thing from florets.  Seriously considering, for dessert, a lemon ice with Eye-talian cookies.

Ciao Bello!


The Saturday Before Thanksgiving

Ah, it caught me at last.  But, I bought more Christmas lights for the back porch early and as I look for a special ornament to add to my half-fake, half-real tree each year, I found two.  And I take it as a sign.  Mom was on my mind this morning, remembering our Saturday-before-Thanksgiving shopping trips, not with sadness, but happiness.  And while I was looking for the special ornaments, I stumbled upon these birthstone ornaments, not precious or semi precious stones, but clear with stained colors, and May and August were side by side.  These are heart-shaped, and May is this gorgeous shade of emerald green so beautiful with “May” written in cursive gold on the front, and on the back are the words, “Love and Patience.”  I kind of laughed because remembering Mom’s temper, patience didn’t seem to apply, and then I realized she was patient in ways that I am not, and vice versa.  Mom was patient enough to do so many tasks to perfection, patient enough to put the effort into an immaculate home, perfect cooking, sewing, embroidery, Scrabble, reading, listening.  Patient enough not to finish anything until it was done to perfection.

The August ornament is the lighter peridot green, and I’ve always said I have the ugliest birthstone of the lot, but each time I visited Mimi and Papa Bill, she always bought me a peridot birthstone ring that I wore so proudly.  The words on the back of the August ornament are, “Beauty and Strength.”  I thought to get one for October and reached for it, but drew my hand back as if a great and mighty NO came from beyond.  Why put something on your tree for someone who doesn’t want to come within fifty feet of you?  And I did look for April, but truth to tell, it was just ugly–it wasn’t clear like a diamond, it was a frosted white noochy looking thing that didn’t do justice.  The words, “Love and Innocence” were on the back.

The May and August greens look beautiful together.  And while I feel this was a sign about Mom, I do remember I have May in my lineage three times–Mom, Daddy and Mimi were all born in May and share the same birthstone.  Papa Bill was born August 19th.

Decided and bought a turkey breast at Joe W’s this morning, with two huge drumsticks.  Going to make my squash casserole, stuffing also for the bird, and I think some sort of carrot dish–either gingered, or glazed or whatever.  While at Joe W’s, as usual in their gourmet cheese section, they had laid out samples of whatever and today it was crostini with semi-soft mozzarella drizzled with olive oil.  To die for–so guess what I’m having for lunch today?  Bought some pistolettes and just pulled my own crostini out of the oven as the mozz sits at room.  The pistolettes smelled so good as I pulled them out of the bag, fresh baked, I think.

Speaking of my mother’s immaculate house, my living room is so dusty, I think I could write a book on the furniture.  I’m laughing remembering something once.  My sister Shirley had come to spend an afternoon to see Mom while I was at work.  I once had an easel that I kept in the living room with some of my paintings propped on it and Mome told me Shirley said, “goodness, who paints!?”  Mom told me she replied:  “Jeanne.  She’s very good at writing, painting, and running an office, but she doesn’t like housework.”  I could clean out a garden, a barn, a pen, and a church with no problem, but heavens, when it comes to cleaning a house, all the life drains right out of me.

Have you recovered enough to start traveling all over the world?

An Early Morning Sharing

It is my sincere wish that this song should be played numerous times at each NFL game.  After all, it would be freedom of expression, would it not?  I think they should play it just after the National Anthem.  All the snowflakes on the left are making fun of Neal McCoy, with insults, etc. via…twitter…it is also my strong belief that the minute someone only responds with insults and put downs that they have already lost the argument because that’s all they have.

Gracious, outside the Ernest Hemingway Room, it’s already getting light.  I have placed to go, things to do, people to see…I’m in more of a Christmas mood than a Thanksgiving one.   I’ve already decided on my Christmas dinner than my Thanksgiving one.  I will cook Bruchaloni, and no, I can never remember how to spell it!

It’s going to turn cold tomorrow, wonders!  Oh, it feels like a Pillsbury cinnamon roll and coffee Saturday morning.  Going to jump into the shower, although now at this stage in my life, it’s more like step carefully into the shower (as I even consider getting a shower chair!)  Don’t think I’m eating enough carbs and that’s having an affect on my legs, back and muscles… because two mornings in a row I splurged diet wise and had pancakes for breakfast and things loosened up.  Forgot from my 10K days, carbo load for muscle performance.

I’m off.  When do you start traveling for your project?

Pendergast, Rope, Thanksgiving Already?

The portrait below is a fan’s rendering of Agent Pendergast included in the Preston-Child e newsletter.  It’s pretty close to the description in the novels.  Reminds me a little bit of someone.

Last night, although I’ve seen it a few times, seeing that Turner was showing, “Rope,” I watched it again, and as usually happens when I see a movie I love more than once, I always come away with another perspective or take, or something.  This time I was completely focused on James Stewart’s performance, or rather, focused on perhaps realizing for the first time in all these years just how much of an acting master he was.  He quietly went to town with this performance, complete with nuances, glances, stares, rumination that required no dialogue for effect.  And then, I was sort of consumed by being awed at the consummate evil of the roommates who murdered for sport, served party food from the chest where that poor boy’s body lay, all the while entertaining his unknowing father so graciously.  And with no suspicion at all that they were the sociopaths because they were convinced they were of the master race.  The arrogance of elitist evil.  Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.

It has hit me like a ton of bricks that Thanksgiving is a week from today.  Do you know, I think I could honestly just order pizza and be done with it?  I’m not up to all the work involved with the holidays and rather than get overwhelmed, would rather just be peaceful and happy.  Might just be perfectly happy roasting a haunch of something, maybe stuffing celery, nibbling as I watch the now nerve-wracking Macy’s parade, and then completely kick back and enjoy the doggie show after.

Today is Mom and Daddy’s 71st wedding anniversary.

One Thanksgiving about 21 years ago, neither Mom nor I felt like a huge rigmarole Thanksgiving.  So, we cleaned house, I gave myself a spot perm, we read and truthfully were altogether relieved we had spent the day quietly.  Thankfulness is thankfulness, no matter what.  I’m in that mood this year.



Pendergast Gun

Mayoral Election

Yes, folks, New Orleans will elect a new mayor this Saturday.  Bye bye Mitch.

It will be historical.  The two candidates are both women:  Desiree Charbonnet (no relation to Karen) and, “my friend,” LaToya Cantrell.    The latter has a 20-point lead over the former.  So, added to my resume is the item that I once told a future mayor of New Orleans that she was a two-faced liar!  After she lied to me about the monuments.  Won’t be losing any sleep over that one in the least.

Another Fun Brain Candy


This was another fun Brain Candy quiz.  Find your true personality–why don’t you take it, it’s interesting.  Link is above.


The photo below accompanied my quiz analysis. (Cool picture!)   I am….

You are a Creator!

As the name suggests, you are a very creative, imaginative and passionate person. You love to experiment with various forms of creations, and challenge yourself at every opportunity. One of the most important things in your life is your alone time. During that time, you let your mind flourish and your creativity go wild. Without that creating outlet, you could go practically insane. Your creative nature helps you to always look at the positive side of life, always find the mental strength to move forward, and never look back.



Life In A Medical School, Crazy Dreams

Life in a medical school.

Today having lunch with Cathy in the Break Room, Cathy, who is a lab technician, was approached by the mischievous Dr. Wang, who asked her (completely knowing the answer), who does phlebotomy? Cathy looked at him and said she did, but it was years. He sat at the table and then proceeded to try to talk her into performing a phlebotomy procedure on–a lab rat. He even had a video on his cell phone to show her where to find the vein in the tale. We both just stared at one another but that didn’t stop him. He then went on to say it was all for the good of man, to fight diabetes, a good cause. He described how he was performing surgery on the little darlings (yes, I was eating a salad), and by the time he finished, I swear if I knew how to do phlebotomy I think I would have volunteered. I told Cathy, “I think you should do it. And I want to hear all about it tomorrow.” But I think when he told us the rat was sedated and asleep, that sold Cathy into acceptance. To Dr. Wang I said, “You could sell the Brooklyn Bridge!” Well, stalwart Cathy went off with Dr. Wang to tend to the r-a-t. Now, no way on earth would I have done this, but just had to share my lunch time tete-a-tete of sorts.

I had crazy, funny, dreams last night. Still must have pirates on the brain because I dreamed of a ship load of pirate skeletons ( I guess it was the Black Pearl), wearing big pirate hats, that were chained to bars in a brig, but they were laughing and dancing, and sliding their bones free of the chains in glee. This woke me up. It wasn’t scary at all. Maybe I should look into that.

This was a lovely post: phlebotomy, rats and skeletons. Maybe I need to read an issue of Vogue, or something.


Quiet, quiet Sunday. The spinach and sweet potato soup was awesome; smothered okra and scooped this onto garlic herbed French bread.

I watched a Paul Newman movie I taped called, “The MacIntosh Man.” You know, with the exception of, “The Silver Chalice,” I don’t think there’s one Paul Newman movie I don’t enjoy. The man always picked really fine stories to film. But I did enjoy this one from 1973, I really did. Dominique Sanda was also in it, and I loved her performance from one of my favorite movies, “The Garden of the Finzi-Continis.” Anyway, in this movie today, there as Paul Newman, gray, but still beautiful, and he reminded me of you. Because, as your last project will attest, you’re gray, but your face is still as beautiful as it was in your project released 25 years ago, in your prime. Come to think of it, I was also in my prime. Oh, well.

After Mac Man, indulged, indulged in guilty pleasures not feeling so guilty about any more. I watched what I supposed are the three of my most favorite Hallmark Christmas movies, i.e.: “A Very Merry Mix-up,” the wonderful, wonderful, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” and on pause currently, “The Christmas Card.” The later I think you have seen, and if you haven’t seen the other two, I urge you to do so. These couples did what we did as best we could during Christmas. I know you are sorry you went, the bogus, “elite” way. The first Christmas after the nightmare of what happened tomorrow happened, Mom told me she felt that “you were miserable.” I think you were; we had the best Christmases together.