X-New York Gal

posted by Evi on Feb 8

One thing I like about this time of year in Florida is the proliferation of yard sales and rummage sales. You can find quite a few around the area on a Friday and Saturday. This weekend I hit several; Friday with my Mom and Saturday with Bill. Some of these sales were held at mobile home parks, including the one Bill works at. My Mom and I also hit a church sale.

The first table I rush to at a sale is the one with the books. I love books and will knock anybody out of my way to get at them. First I search for cookbooks, not that I really cook or anything. Bill does more of the cooking than I do. (Although, I did make an attempt at a chicken pot pie recipe I found in the newspaper the other day which didn‘t turn out too badly.) I add these books to the collection of hundreds of cookbooks I’ve accumulated since I was a little girl. I started this collection because I liked looking at pictures of food when I was hungry. I guess I liked to hear my stomach growl. It’s probably time to start putting some of them on E-Bay.

After checking out the cookbooks, I look for novels – preferably paperbacks because they’re easier to read in bed. Many a time I’ve bought a novel only to realize halfway through the book that I’d already read it years ago. That’s what happens when you’re an avid reader. But I’m not going to cry over a spent quarter.

Maybe in my travels I’ll find a cute cat figure to add to my rapidly multiplying collection or some kind of kitchen doodad which will be relegated to a drawer never to be found again. I also have a thing about tote bags, so if I see a good one I’ll add that to my plastic container full of bags. Okay, okay, so maybe I’m a bit of a pack rat but I’m not the only one. Bill has such an overwhelming collection of ceramic teapots that he even brought some to Goodwill (where he probably got them from in the first place.)

It’s not like we need any more junk around the house. We just like to accumulate things, then try to figure out how to get rid of them at a later date. Don’t ask me why; it‘s a sickness.

When Bill and I lived on Long Island, we used to schedule our Saturdays around yard sales. I would circle all the sales in the newspaper and Pennysaver and plan out the route to hit each and every one within a 30 mile radius. First we’d stop at the deli and pick up breakfast sandwiches and coffee to go, then head out for our first stop. Finally by late afternoon we’d reach our last stop and head home. I couldn’t wait for the following Saturday to do it all over again.

I said to my husband this morning we ought to get that crew from the TV show “Clean House” to help us muck out some of this crap. But they’d have to remove me from the premises because I’d be fighting them tooth and nail to keep all my “stuff”, not to mention all the wailing and gnashing of teeth. This could prove to be embarrassing on national TV. (For the record, my house really isn’t that bad.)

My Mom and I are anxiously awaiting the rummage sale at the church down the road. That one’s always good for more additions to my collections. In the meantime, I’ve already signed up for an E-Bay account. Nothing like being prepared.

posted by Evi on Feb 2

I just love rainy days. As I write this I’m sitting in my car eating lunch and enjoying the rain. This is the kind of day where I’d rather be home sitting in my lanai with a juicy novel, listening to the rain on the roof and the wind breezing through the pine trees. Unfortunately it’s Monday and one of the days I work.

Down here in Florida we never get enough rainy days to suit me. I guess that’s why it’s called the Sunshine State. Oh sure, we have a rainy season which lasts about six months. We get lightning so bad that I sometimes feel like joining the cat under the bed; a lot of crashing noise and torrential downpours. But 15 or 20 minutes later it’s all over and the sun is back hotter than ever.

(My husband took the above photo at Vero Beach.)

And don’t even ask me about the mosquitoes that suddenly appear in whiny clouds. I don’t know what’s so special about my blood but they seem to target only me. I mean they home right in on me. My Mom claims she never gets bitten, my husband thinks I’m crazy. He’s convinced that there are no mosquitoes out there. But I know better and have the welts and scabs to prove it. So that’s one of the downsides of rain.

Otherwise, I miss the days up North when it would actually rain an entire day or even several days in a row. It was such a cozy feeling sitting inside watching the raining pelt the windows. I remember one summer where the week days were sunny and gorgeous and it rained every weekend. Okay, so that did get tired after awhile.

But now we’re in fire season. (Yes, Florida is a state of seasons – fire season, rainy season, hurricane season.) So a little rain always helps. There’s nothing more frightening than seeing the smoke of a nearby fire and hoping it doesn’t head your way. This happened a few years ago when we were managers of a manufactured home community down the road from where we live now. The fire started from a lightning strike way back in the woods on the other side of Tamiami Trail and eventually worked its way right across the road from our park. Things really got exciting when it jumped the highway and started working its way into our park. Bill was out there with the firemen while I, brave soul that I am, grabbed the cat and my mother and drove around the park ready to take flight. Thanks to the fire department the fire was contained and we all still had our homes.

So where am I going with all of this? Nowhere really. It’s just that I love rainy days.

posted by Evi on Jan 22

It’s been kind of chilly here in Southwest Florida and that got me to thinking of soup. Just recently I had made a pea soup from scratch which turned out really delicious, if I must say so myself. You can basically use the recipe on an 8 ounce bag of dried peas and then add your own touches.

I cooked mine in the crock pot and added a ham bone and small pieces of cut up ham, a parsnip (which gives it a real nice flavor), carrots, an onion, some leftover cooked potatoes, one and a half Knorr’s vegetable broth cubes, parsley, and some black pepper. Be sure to cut up everything into really small pieces. Then you let it sit in the crock pot for the next 7 – 9 hours. (For the first hour I put it on high, then turned it down to low.) About a half hour or so before serving, I removed the hambone and cut off any remaining meat. This soup, along with a buttered dinner roll, is a complete comfort meal.

I used to love making soups from scratch, even though I’m not much of a cook. Unfortunately Bill, my husband, is not a soup eater so I ended up giving some to my Mom.

I remember back to when I worked in New York City for a life insurance agency on Madison Avenue. One of my favorite ways to spend lunch time on a dreary, rainy day was to run a few blocks over to the Chock Full ‘O’ Nuts coffee shop on Fifth Avenue between 35^th and 36^th Streets and grab a hamburger and Manhattan clam chowder to go. I would then find an empty office in which to savor my greasy hamburger and delicious clam chowder in peace. The most comfortable office was the vice president’s office, so when he was out I would curl up in one of the comfortable old leather chairs along with the New York Daily News, sip at my soup and watch the rain drops streaking down the windows. (In those days I got an hour for lunch even though I only worked from 8:30 to 4:30. This constituted and 8 hour work day unlike those of today.)

I decided to Google Chock Full ‘O’ Nuts before writing about it. I figured they were all gone by now. Boy was I wrong! Apparently there are about 16 shops located in the New York area and one in Jersey. But it seems they went the way of Starbucks and coffee shops of that type with their lattes and other specialty drinks. I’m sorry to say I couldn’t find any mention of their Manhattan clam chowder and hamburgers, my favorite comfort lunches of days past.

posted by Evi on Jan 16

Last year my sister-in-law was down from New York. She was staying with her mother up in Zephyrhills, Florida. So during her stay she and her mother came down to visit my Mom and me and we ended up spending the day in Sanibel. Yes Sanibel, again. It seems every time we have visitors we take them to Sanibel. But it’s a nice drive and the beaches are beautiful and there are all sorts of little gift shops around.

Anyway, the four of us decided to check out some of these little shops and suddenly my sis-in-law’s mom calls out to me to check out this tee shirt that seemed made especially for my husband. It was a bright blue shirt with white lettering that spelled out “Tested Positive For Grumpiness”. That was a real winner so needless to say, I bought it. My husband claims he’s grumpy and proud of it. And believe me, truer words have never been spoken.

I happily brought the shirt home and presented it to him, getting a sarcastic “Oh, thanks a lot”. I figured the shirt would end crumpled up someplace in the back of his armoire.

HA! He wears that damn shirt wherever he goes. He has gotten more comments from women wanting to know where they can get a shirt like that for their husbands. Hell, somebody offered him $25 for it.  He loves the attention and always tells them just how grumpy he really is. If I’m around I, of course, agree. Women have even come up to me asking where they can get a shirt like that.

Which kind of brings me to one conclusion. Most men are grumpy and proud of it.

posted by Evi on Jan 11

This is a continuation of my encounters of the creepy kind – namely spiders. Eek! I’ve had two more life-scarring confrontations that I will never forget and if the spiders were alive to tell, they probably wouldn’t forget either.

Don’t get me wrong – I really don’t advocate killing spiders because they are living creatures and do have their place in nature, but I still haven’t gotten to the point (and probably never will) of capturing them with a tissue and gently placing them outside.

One morning I was walking around the house searching for my slippers. I found them in the dining room and slipped my bare feet in them. The top inside of the slipper felt a little scratchy but I didn’t really give it much thought. You know how the fuzzy part of a slipper picks up little pieces of debris. Then I figured I may as well clean it off so it doesn’t keep scratching my foot. I pulled off the slipper and picked it up to see what was there and . . .out plopped a huge black, hairy spider! My heart stopped. Dizziness overtook me and I thought I would pass out. Holy crap! I was alone in the house with no one but the cat to rescue me.

After my heart started back up I grabbed the slipper and – whack! Shaking, I picked it up with a tissue and disposed of it. I think it was another wolf spider. From then on, I always check my slippers and shoes before putting my feet in. Let that be a lesson to all of you!

posted by Evi on Jan 8

My Mom stopped by yesterday for coffee on her way back from the supermarket. While chatting, we got on the subject of my irrational fear of spiders and how over the years she tried to desensitize me by – hmmm, let me see now – plopping me down in a giant web spun by some sort of creepy garden spider when I was just a little girl, and placing fake spiders between the sheets when I’d come visit her on my semi-annual treks to Florida before moving here. (To be fair, it wasn’t spiders all the time – try rubber cockroaches and those little fur covered toy mice for cats.)

I never knew what would turn up under the covers and after a while I became immune to these offerings. None of this helped me overcome my fear, though. If nothing else, it made it even worse. When confronted with a spider, especially the big black, hairy ones down here in Florida, I still go into shock. My heart pounds and my knees want to buckle right out from under me.

While living in Florida I’ve had three major spider confrontations (so far) that will stick in my mind for all eternity.

Anyway, this is what a spider looks like to someone with acute arachniphobia. In reality the legs were probably only an inch and a half long with a body the size of a penny.

The spider skittered off the door and into the bedroom. I panicked and grabbed the cat then slammed the door shut, closing the spider off in the bedroom. Uh, oh – what did I just do? Oh, no. . .

I grabbed my car keys, tear-assed out the door and scoured the park for Bill. Needless to say, when I did find him he wasn’t too happy being called off duty for something as mundane as a spider. He also wanted to know why I shut the spider in the bedroom. I, in my hysteria, probably said something unintelligible, then told him if he didn’t catch the spider, I was running away from home and sleeping elsewhere.

I spent the night across the street at our friends’ house in their spare bedroom. Al and Dee still haven’t let me forget the incident.

I came home the following day. Bill and Smoochie Cat were up until after two in the morning hunting for the spider, to no avail. That night I was in our spare room playing on the computer – all night if I had to. No way was I going to bed with a giant spider on the loose.

Suddenly Bill came to the room and said, “Don’t move. Just stay where you are.” Then, whack! He intercepted the spider just as it was about to enter the room I was in. My hero!

I put the dead spider in a baggie (don’t worry, my eyes were closed) and showed it to an exterminator the following day. He confirmed it was a wolf spider and quite harmless. Still. . . a spider is a spider!

posted by Evi on Jan 1

The end of 2008 is nigh.  So, how was your year?  Did you accomplish everything you set out to do?  If not, don’t feel too bad; most of us probably didn’t.  I know I didn’t.  I got a good start on things but after a while I lost momentum or interest and everything started going down the tubes.

 So here I am, faced with a new year.  Once again, will I lose the weight I regained after I lost it the year before?  Will I stick to an exercise program?  Will I get an e-business started?  Will I, will I, will I?  Who knows, but I’ll give it all another shot anyway. Because what is life without something to strive for; to hope for?

I could just sit here and let the world pass me by.  That’s certainly the easy way out.  But what will I have to show for my time on earth?  What will be my legacy?  What will be yours?

So get out there and keep plugging away.  Enjoy your life, create something, dance; whatever.  Start a blog, write a book.  But never give up.

A HAPPY AND HEALTHY NEW YEAR TO ALL!

posted by Evi on Dec 25

Hi, it’s Christmas Eve and I finally finished shopping and wrapping gifts. My cards were sent in what is (I hope) a timely manner and most of the people they were sent to should get them before Christmas. Once again – I hope.

All my other chores have been crossed off my list and after lunch I’ll kick back and relax.

Oh wait, first I have to fold the laundry and put that away, then maybe sort my e-book collection into categories. Right now they’re just jumbled pages thrown together in loose leaf binders. I guess while I’m still up and about I should walk the dog. Oh, and once the roast thaws out, I can throw that in the oven and start dinner.

I shouldn’t complain though. My husband works 40 hours a week, then many times comes home and cooks dinner. (Actually, he doesn’t care for my cooking, so . . .)

I won’t bore you any further today. Actually, I just want to wish you all

posted by Evi on Dec 22

When I was a kid I just loved Christmas. All those toys; the tree decked out in lights, tinsel and gaily colored decorations; visiting our grandparents’ homes; cookies – it was all great. Okay, our toys weren’t those fancy gas and battery powered all-terrain vehicles all the kids want (and get) these days – I remember getting a green station wagon car you sat in and pedaled. Yes pedaled, as in using your own leg and foot power. No computers or cell phones. More like books (which I still love receiving) and board games and little toys you moved around by hand. Unfortunately as I grew older, Christmas sort of lost its magic when I started receiving clothes and underwear – of all things.

Nowadays, the holidays are just days to get through so my life and house can get back to normal. My grandparents are long gone and our families are up North, except for my Mom who lives nearby. To her Christmas is also just another day. She no longer puts up decorations except for maybe a small ceramic tree she made in a ceramics class years ago.

Somehow Christmas just got lost in the commercialization of it all. Do you really need to see Christmas trees and decorations before Halloween? Do you really need to be reminded that there are 60 shopping days left before Christmas? Is this really what Christmas is supposed to be about? Has everybody forgotten the true meaning and the reason we celebrate Christmas? It sure seems that way. (Don’t worry, I’m not going to get all religious on you.)

I must say, though, that my husband is still the last Christmas holdout in our family. Every year he decorates the house, both inside and out. He also makes me help decorate the tree to Christmas music. Normally, he cooks the dinner and we have my Mom and friends over. (This year we’re having dinner, at Al and Dee’s home, along with my Mom.) So, I guess all is not lost. But I would give anything to go back just once to a Christmas when I was a kid, my family was together and my grandparents were alive – and, oh yeah, don’t forget my toys.

posted by Evi on Dec 20

I guess my mother has become somewhat jaded. Brother #2 (Steven) flew down for a surprise visit – surprise to my mother anyway. So, we tried to figure out how to catch her off guard. We came up with a bunch of elaborate schemes – like dropping him off in the local Publix then taking her there on the pretense of food shopping – but when she called me on Wednesday about stopping by for coffee we decided Steven would answer the door. Since he’s been in Florida only once since Mom moved down here in 1988, we figured he’d be the last person she’d expect.

First he had to be disguised; the usual hat covering the face and dark shades. His t-shirt, however, had something to do with horseracing on it and I told him he should change into another shirt. (He’s into horses and his job also has something to do with the subject. If you’re into horseracing, his and his associate’s website is www.topspeedhorses.com). Steve said she’d never notice.

Soon Mom knocked on the door and Steven answered. I hid around the corner . She stared at him, thinking “did I knock on the right door?”, then thought he was someone else. She couldn’t imagine why that particular man would be in my house. She gave him the old up and down look and her eyes rested on the shirt. “Steven???”

Damn! We should have gone to Publix. Maybe next year.