My Magic Comb

While visiting the panda park on the northern edge of Chengdu, China, two years ago, I couldn't resist buying this little souvenir key chain. Between the panda's front and hind paws you will notice a tiny comb, which measures less than one inch in length.

Last night I settled in to read more of The Thorn Birds, but first I happened to study this key chain, still in its original package, which I was using as a bookmark.[ Yes, this is the second miraculous discovery I've made while re-reading The Thorn Birds this summer. (See "Fine Art Found!"]

Anyway, I looked closely at the cute little panda comb, then turned the package over to read, for the first time apparently, the information on the back. Here it is, verbatim, awkward English and all:

Our combs and fine toothed bamboo combs are made of boxwood, nanmu or bamboo with excellent crafts. It has been proved by modern medicine that often combing one's hair with this kind of combs can ease one's headache and sleeplessness and can refresh one's mind, combing one's hair with this kind of combs can also make one hear and see well.

Imagine! Easing of headaches, easing of insomnia, a clearer mind, not to mention better eyesight and sharper hearing, all by regular use of "this kind of combs."

Who knew? It's time for the souvenir comb to come out of its package and get to work. I'm thinking it might also improve my I.Q. And to think I paid probably 10 yuan for it, which would be about $1.40.

Home Again

Sunday evening I returned home after spending a few days at a conference in Delaware. I belong to an international organization for teachers and retired teachers: Alpha Delta Kappa. Since I somehow managed to get myself into the position of president of the Maine branch of ADK, it was more or less compulsory that I attend the Northeast Region Conference.

But I can't say that the experience was a strain. The workshops, for the most part, were helpful to a struggling (actually, clueless) state leader, and the accommodations and food were elegant.

The first photo is of a cheesecake dessert at our Friday Ladybug Luncheon. See the little ladybug? She was edible, too. (I assume all ladybugs are female or they'd be called manbugs, I suppose?) The cheesecake was delicious, but it broke my heart to leave some of it untouched. I just didn't have room for it all.

Next is the dessert from the Butterfly Luncheon on Saturday. This was a light, also-delicious mousse. Yummy.

And to prove that our accommodations were not the least like home, here's a photo of the hotel lobby. Nice, huh?

Now it's back to reality and fighting the Japanese beetles on my rose bushes (They had themselves a regular party while I was away, judging from the frazzled leaves on the bushes), washing, ironing, weeding, and fixing a long-overdue, decent meal for a change.

Presto! Pesto

Yesterday I decided to expand my culinary horizons and make a batch of pesto. The bay leaves growing in pots on our back deck needed a good trimming, so the time had come for pesto-making.

First I looked up "pesto" at my favorite recipe site, Allrecipes.com. After checking out several of the recipes and reading reviews, I decided to give this one a try, mainly because I had all the ingredients on hand:

Pesto Sauce

3 c. fresh basil leaves

1 1/2 c. chopped walnuts

4 cloves garlic, peeled (I used 6-7 cloves.)

1/4 c. grated Parmesan cheese

1 c. olive oil

salt and pepper to taste.

1. In a food processor, blend together basil leaves, nuts, garlic, and cheese. Pour in oil slowly while still mixing. Stir in salt and pepper.

This yielded about 2 cups, maybe a bit more, of rich, green pesto sauce. So now I had to decide what to do with it.

Back to Allrecipes I went, where I found a recipe called "Pesto Pasta and Chicken." This sounded delicious.

Ingredients:

1 16-oz. package bow tie pasta

1 t. olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 

bite -sized pieces

Crushed red pepper  flakes to taste (These I left out, opting not to have my Epi-pen on standby, for I'm very allergic to red pepper.)

1/3 c. oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, drained and cut into strips

1/2 c. pesto sauce

1. Bring large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook for 8-10 minutes (I prefer the Marjorie Standish never-fail method of cooking pasta: Add it to boiling water, stir non-stop as it boils for 2 minutes, remove pot from heat, allow to sit, covered, for 10 minutes, and voila! Your pasta if perfectly cooked. Works for all types of pasta.)

2. Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat. Sauté garlic until tender, then stir in chicken pieces. Season with red pepper flakes (if you're not allergic to it). Cook until chicken is golden and cooked through. I seasoned the chicken with salt and pepper, and that seemed perfect.

3. In a large bowl, combine pasta, chicken, sun-dried tomatoes, and pesto. Toss to coat evenly.

It was delicious! Both Ken and I loved it. 

Fine Art Found!

I've been on a kick, since getting home from Australia, of reading Australian novels/books. After finishing In a Sunburned Country a second time, then moving on to A Town Like Alice, it was now time to delve into one of my all-time favorites, The Thorn Birds.

So last evening I found the novel on my bookshelf, took it to bed with me, and settled in to begin a great read.

Imagine my surprise when a sheet of pale blue paper fell out from behind the fly leaf. I opened it and discovered these two portraits.

I first read The Thorn Birds when it was published, in the late '70's. So this pair of portraits must have been drawn around 1980, when the artist was perhaps seven or eight. The portraits are of my sister ("Mom") and me ("Aunt Jean"). Many pay big bucks to have their portraits done, but ours were done for free. And to think I'd tucked them away in my precious copy of The Thorn Birds for almost thirty years. While our hairstyles have changed and our shoulders, I'm sure, have grown broader, we remain as perky and pensive as we are in these drawings.

OMG!!! It's a speedster, not a roadster.

I told you I didn't have the understanding or the terminology. I was 100% correct. I mentioned to Ken his "roadster" this evening, and he said, "Why are you calling it a roadster? It's a speedster." So there you have it.

Ken's Workshop...and His Roadster

When we decided to move from our old home ten years ago and build a new home not far away, my big regret was that Ken had to leave the garage/workshop that he had built there. He assured me he'd some day have another workshop, but in the meantime he did his tinkering in the basement of the new home. It was dark and dingy down there, but he never complained.

Now he has his new workshop, entirely built by him, and it's a first-class job, I must say. He loves going out there most days to work on his projects, whether it be to repair one of my garden ornaments or build his Model T roadster.

I'm beginning to get a grasp of what a Model T roadster is. Ken has talked about his "roadster" since before we were married, as if it actually existed, but it was no more than antique auto parts stored in various boxes in the basement. Back in my days of teaching, I mentioned to one of my grade nine classes that my husband called his boxes of auto parts an actual auto. A boy in the back of the room immediately spoke up and came to Ken's defense: "The car does exist. It doesn't matter whether it's a bunch of parts in boxes or not, it's still a car." I began to change my own thinking after hearing a 14-year-old's perspective.

This summer the roadster is taking shape. I can't tell you exactly what has been done and what remains to be done, because I lack the knowledge and terminology, but I can tell you that I'm beginning to see a roadster emerge from the various auto parts.

ABC's of Me

I was tagged or this by my niece Heather, in Idaho.

A. Attached or single? Attached

B. Best friend? Ken

C. Cake or pie? Tough one, but I'll say cake.

D. Day of choice? Any day, now that I'm retired.

E. Essential item? Computer AND camera

F. Favorite color? Green

G. Gummy bears or worms? Neither

H. Home town? Central Maine

I. Favorite indulgence? Yarn

J. January or July? Both. Love winter; love summer.

K. Kids? None

L. Life isn't complete without? An occasional trip to a far-off place.

M. Marriage date? August 15, 1970

N. Number of brothers and sisters? 3 brothers, 2 sisters

O. Oranges or apples? Oranges

P. Phobias? Snakes

Q. One's reach should exceed one's grasp, or what's a heaven for? -Browning

R. Reason to smile? Health, happiness

S. Season of choice? All

T. Tag five people: Will eventually

U. Unknown fact about me? I wrote to the Queen of England when I was a kid.

V. Vegetable? Peas

W. Worst habit? Not putting things away.

X. Xray or ultrasound? Xray

Y. Your favorite food? Love 'em all, practically

Z. Zodiac sign? Scorpio

Kennebunkport on a Saturday in Summer

Kennebunkport was certainly busy yesterday afternoon, although you wouldn't believe it from these photos. I managed to snap pictures when none of the tourists were in front of my camera, I guess.

Here's a boat coming back into the harbor after a tour.

The flowers in the center of Dock Square are always beautiful. At Christmas, the tree here is equally impressive. 

(Some year I want to go down to Kennebunkport in early December when Santa arrives in the port on a lobster boat. That's a sight I've always wanted to see.)

 The hydrangeas were at their peak yesterday in the 'port.

All in all, it was a great day to be on the coast of southern Maine. 

Uninvited Guest

I've seen this critter on the edge of our woods behind the house, in broad daylight, twice in the past week. S/he's moseying a little too close to my flower and vegetable gardens, if you ask me, so I've stepped up my efforts to keep him at bay: chunks of Dial soap hanging in nylon bags, my special milk/egg/soap concoction sprayed on plants, aluminum plates twirling from strings. 

If I get up some morning and discover my hard work in gardening has been reduced to mere remnants of plants, it will be time for all-out war.

We see deer tracks all around our property and have for years. Each morning, on my walk, I see evidence that the deer have been cavorting up and down the road most of the night. When we first moved here, Ken spotted a moose on our lawn early one morning. So it's probably safe to say we're surrounded, and it's just a matter of time....

Patience...and humidity

This is my latest knitting project, and it requires more patience than any other knitting I've done so far. The design isn't all that complicated, in that it's a simple repeat of every 6 stitches, but those six stitches seem to take a great deal of time. This morning I passed the half-way mark, though, by completing the sweater's back. Somewhere down the road, the end will be in sight. Meanwhile, I'll keep going with the k3, psso, sl1, k2 tog, psso.

Man, it's humid here in Maine today. I've decided to forego my walk with Molly and just hunker down inside. I'm sure Molly is grateful for the decision. We usually walk in rain, sleet, snow, and anything else Mother Nature throws at us, but today's weather is too, too much.

Hands

We attended a graveside service yesterday for a young woman who died much too soon. This photo is of her grieving father and brother. It speaks volumes, doesn't it?

Happy Independence Day!

Happy Independence Day, everyone. 

Ken has deep respect for the American flag, having served in the Air Force during the Vietnam War, but he's especially proud of this particular flag. It belonged to his grandfather and was first flown during WWI. Notice the 48 stars.

More Clematis in Bloom

Yesterday I composed a post that was nothing more than a complaint, a complaint about those who talk on their cellphones in public places, causing the rest of us to learn way more about their private lives than we'd ever hoped to know.

That post was prompted by an incident in a shop on Saturday. Ken and I learned that the lady on the phone would be hosting a dinner party that evening, she and her husband would provide the pasta, the salad, and a bread to go with "that garlic stuff" that she'd just bought, and the guests would provide the dessert. Sounded like a nice meal, and after having to hear all about it, I sort of felt we deserved an invitation, but we didn't get one.

Anyway, instead of griping about things I can't control, I thought I'd show you my two purple Jackmani clematis vines, now in full bloom in my large flower garden.
They are happy little clematis vines, and they ask so little of me: Occasional watering if the ground is dry, some fresh compost in the spring, and bamboo posts to climb on.

That's a bird bath in the photo, too. It's a rock, of course, that originally sat in another spot in our back yard. When we put in the flower garden two years ago, Ken suggested the rock, with its natural "bowl," would make a perfect bird bath. So he hitched a chain to the rock and dragged it, with his tractor, to its new spot. I often catch birds frolicking in the water, thinking no one can see them.

I have two more clematis vines about to burst into bloom, so stay tuned.