Category Archives: personal

In My Defense, It Still Hurts a Little

Posted on January 9, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I mentioned recently that I don’t usually blog about work. I mentioned it in a post in which I told a story of something that happened at work. So just to get really post-post-ironic on you (I have no idea what that means, I just thought it sounded cool), here is another post about the work that I don’t usually blog about.

I had no handy topic for a post, so I thought to do something I used to do quite frequently: run and then write about that. Regular readers know I have not been running lately and have been beating myself up about it (which is not as good exercise as you might think). The weather was supposed to be warm. It would be great!

I am SO my own worst enemy. You see, I had a slight problem at work today. I was carrying a small pan when I tripped on a wooden pallet and twisted my ankle. Ouch! In fact, all I could do for about two minutes afterward was say, “Ow! Ow! Ow!” I am rarely articulate when in pain.

I finally was able to limp over to some co-workers, get some sympathy, inspect the ankle, then limp back to work. Soon the pain gave way to feeling really, really foolish. You see, on a pillar right near the pallet is a sign reading, “Caution: Tripping Hazard.” I first saw that sign months ago when they put it up and I laughed my head off (not literally, although that would have made a good blog post). Apparently somebody had tripped over a pallet and the safety guy made them put up the sign to warn others.

To add to the irony (I guess that’s taking a few steps back from my post-ironic stance of the first paragraph), a day or so after that, I tripped over something in another section. In my defense, what I tripped over had been left in a stupid place. That day I went around saying, “If ONLY there would have been a sign saying, ‘Caution: Tripping Hazard.'”

How the mighty have fallen (No, I don’t really think I’m mighty. It’s an expression. Sheesh!). In conclusion, my ankle is probably not sprained, but it is a little swollen and tender, so I opted not to run, but to write a silly blog post which will give some of you a chance to point and laugh (you know who you are).

Oh dear, I can just hear the naysayers I was complaining about in yesterday’s post saying, “Oh, sure, there’s always an excuse! You should have gone running anyways!” Come on, people! Cut me a break! Say I go running. Then what if I have to go into work tomorrow with my ankle the size of a balloon? “Well, you see, boss, I was following the advice of some purely hypothetical people who may or may not read my blog.”

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No, I Don’t Have a Plan

Posted on January 8, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I must check to be certain, but I believe last week I eschewed Non Sequitur Thursday, Lame Post Friday (cue jokes about all my posts being somewhat lame) and Wrist to Forehead Sunday. So today is Middle-aged Musings Monday, and anybody who doesn’t like it should stop reading now.

I’m not sure I like it much myself, now that I’m writing it, but I shall persevere. And I shall continue to refer to myself as middle-aged, because there is no reason to think that I will not live to be 98 years old (I can see some of you doing the math now; I had to). After all, I quit smoking, I exercise regularly and I only occasionally eat deep fried foods (at first I made a typo and said occaSINally. A Freudian slip? You be the judge).

Be that as it may, I have been musing over my life lately. I thought perhaps to use this post to outline a grand plan for at last getting organized and accomplishing my life’s goals, after first setting a few. Mind you, I do not actually have such a plan. I had hoped that if I started writing about it, one would magically appear, much the same way characters and plot points magically appear when I write fiction.

Then I remembered what a truly terrible idea it is to share plans of any kind with anybody. I have been more likely to meet with discouragement than otherwise. Career plans get, “Those jobs are hard to get” or “You need a lot of education for that.” Novel ideas get, “That’s been done,” often with an eye roll. General life organization plans get, “Will you actually do that?”

Does this happen to anybody else or is it just me? I suppose it is possible that all my plans happen to be stupid. Well, one can’t be good at everything. Maybe I’m just not good at having a plan.

I do seem to recall once meeting with a not discouraging response to a plan. I said I was going to write a romance novel, and the fellow I was talking with said, “Oh, are you thinking of writing?” in a casually interested tone of voice, as if it were not a completely ridiculous ambition.

“I’m always thinking of writing,” I said. “I’m just never writing.”

I never did write the romance novel, by the way, although I worked on one for a while. I would dress in a fancy nightgown with high heels and sip water from a champagne flute while I wrote. I later learned that many romance novelists work in sweats, drinking coffee out of a ceramic mug like a normal person. I think my way is more fun.

I’m still always thinking about writing. But now, thanks to the internet, I actually write every day (as you see). I think for a writer, a blog is a beautiful thing. I’m sure there are people out there ready to say things like, “You need to write more than just a blog to be a writer” or “There are so many people writing blogs, you’ll never amount to anything” or even “You blog isn’t really very good, you know.”

OK, nobody has been rude enough to say the last thing to me, and I think I said the first one to myself. And the person that said the middle one didn’t EXACTLY say I’d never amount to anything.

But let us not give ear to discouraging sayings. Let us make our plans, write our novels and our blogs, and feel good about it. It’s Monday. We have a whole week ahead of us. Let’s enjoy it (Oh, I can just hear somebody saying, “It’s not a WHOLE week; we’ve already had Sunday and Monday, you know.” Some people just have to be that way).

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Waste Not, Want Not

Posted on January 7, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

In lieu of Wrist to Forehead Sunday, I offer the following cooking post:

For dinner last night, I decided to use up some leftovers. We had some meatballs and some cheese dip. The cheese dip was an attempt I had made at Horned Dorset Dip, which I have enjoyed at wine tastings at Ilion Wine and Spirits. The guy there told me the recipe and I wrote it down.

The recipe is basically equal parts chopped onion, grated cheddar cheese and mayonnaise. You mix, put in oven and bake at 350 degrees till bubbly. I think. I confess, I relied on memory rather than searching through various notebooks I may have written it in (although now that I think about it, I bet it’s in my wine tasting notebook in my purse. Silly me!).

The dip did not turn out as well as what they served at the wine tasting. I don’t know if my oven was too hot or I baked it too long, but the cheese kind of separated, as melted cheddar sometimes does. We ate it and liked it anyways. We put what was left over in the refrigerator.

Regarding the meatballs, well, shake your gourmet fingers at me if you must, they were the pre-made frozen kind. I had heated them in the oven and we had dipped them in sauce as an appetizer/munchy kind of thing. The leftovers had no sauce on them so were open to many possibilities.

I set the oven to 350 degrees to preheat (kind of the universal temperature, isn’t it?) and grated some mozzarella cheese. I put on water to boil for macaroni then thought some garlic would be welcome. I peeled and crushed a few cloves, then set the stove timer for fifteen minutes, so it would reach its full antioxidant potential (or is it cancer fighting? I can never keep these things straight).

Where I somehow managed to time things right: the water in the pot came to a boil almost as the timer was at eleven minutes, the time needed to cook the rigatonis (my chosen pasta shape of the day). Once the pasta was cooked and drained, I added the leftover cheese dip, the freshly grated cheese, the leftover meatballs and a little butter for good measure (I used the butter that came with the Italian bread we didn’t eat the last time we ordered from Salvatore’s). I almost forgot the garlic but remembered it in time.

It was immediately after I put the stuff in the oven that I remembered that I had intended to add a can of mushrooms (pieces and stems) for a vegetable. It wasn’t too late: I pulled the casserole dish out and added them. This had the added benefit that I was now sure the garlic was thoroughly mixed in as well.

I baked it for fifteen minutes, stirred it, then fifteen minutes more, covered. Then I sprinkled the last of my Italian style breadcrumbs over top of it and baked it uncovered for five minutes more. I immediately added Italian style breadcrumbs to my grocery list (preview of coming attractions).

Even if I do say it myself (and who else is here to say it?), it tasted pretty darn good. There is a little bit left over, but I intend to heat that up for my dinner tomorrow. Steven won’t be home before seven, and I have a meeting at 6:30. So I’m feeling all kinds of pleased with myself today: used up left overs, have a plan to use up the left over left overs, and avoided a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post. Hope to see you Monday.

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And Here’s Another Walk

Posted on January 6, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

Once again I substitute a pedestrian post for Saturday Running Commentary. I offer no apologies for this. If I choose not to risk slipping on the ice and falling on my fat butt or foolish face, it is not for others to judge.

Did that sound a little defensive? Well, I suppose I do harbor a little guilt. But there is no point in worrying about it, because for some people (notably my inner critic), nothing is ever good enough.

So much for self analysis (or was that self indulgence? Oh well, we’re all allowed sometimes), on with the walk.

The Wait Five Minute Mohawk Valley Weather (you know, “if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes”) did us all a favor and warmed up, relatively speaking. I could do a whole post on how 30 degrees feels a whole lot nicer when the temperature rises to it in January than it felt when the temperature first fell to it in October (weight does the same thing, only in the other direction, if you see what I mean). But no Middle-aged Musings on a Saturday, please.

I still put on toque, gloves and insulated sweatshirt. Steven contented himself with his coat, and Tabby, as usual, went au naturel. Our plan was to walk to Smoker Friendly so Steven could indulge in his worst habit (unhealthy and expensive; what’s to like? But it’s not for me to judge). This necessitated walking by Tabby’s favorite Historic Four Corners. She particularly likes to sniff the wrought iron fence at Herkimer Reformed Church.

We were able to cross Main Street with no problem. I said that it might be nice to see a little more traffic in downtown Herkimer on a Saturday afternoon. Still, I do like crossing the street with no dangers.

We continued down Main Street after Steven transacted his business at Smokers Friendly (he also bought me a scratch off lottery ticket). Past many closed businesses (some permanently, some just on Saturday afternoon). It looks as if somebody might be doing something in the space that formerly housed Brownie’s. We also observed a new barbershop, but it was on the other side of the street, so I can’t offer any details.

We crossed back over at the bottom of the street and walked by Crazy Otto’s, Hummel’s Office Plus and the Belly Up Pub. There is another store next to Hummel’s whose name escapes me. I think it is a second hand store and they also sell stuff on ebay. Another local business for me to get more details on for a future blog post.

We walked one block up Prospect then over to Meyers Park. The wind picked up a little and felt cold on our faces, but the sun was still bright. We walked for about a half hour.

If anyone found this post depressingly similar to a hundred other posts I’ve written about walking in Herkimer, I’m sorry. My legs certainly appreciated it. And I have to say I enjoyed writing about it. Furthermore, Steven and Tabby were entertained and exercised. And I have a whole year ahead of me in which to write more interesting posts (but probably not in which I will break myself of the habit of beginning sentences with “And”).

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Me and Joan Crawford

Posted on January 5, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

The Mohawk Valley experienced some very cold temperatures yesterday. My place of employment became rather uncomfortable.

Regular readers (and WordPress tells me I have a few) know that I rarely blog about my work. It’s not that kind of a blog, and I don’t want to get in trouble with management (go ahead, call me a chicken). Well, this isn’t really about work.

I work in an old building, actually a series of old buildings all kind of hooked together. It is not very well insulated. The temperature varies from building to building and from section to section within each building. Guess which section in which building was the coldest. I suppose I can’t say for sure it was mine, because it’s really too big a place to check the whole thing out, but in my limited perambulations, where I work was cold.

Then I remembered: Joan Crawford. Joan Crawford always insisted that the sets of her movies be kept at cold temperatures, because it made the skin on her face tighter and minimized the appearance of wrinkles. I wash my face in cold water most mornings for that reason. Joan used to stick her face in a sink full of ice cubes, but that would involve a trip down to the kitchen for me and I’m too lazy to be beautiful.

Once I remembered Joan Crawford and her little beauty trick, I felt much better about everything. Of course I had to share my happiness, so I went and found my friend Sally and explained the whole thing to her.

“We’re glamorous!” I assured her. She was suitably impressed. I went back to work refreshed.

A short time later, I heard a voice exclaim, “Hey, isn’t that Joan Crawford?” It was Harry, a mutual friend of mine and Sally’s. “Wow! I thought it was Joan Crawford!”

I burst out laughing. I don’t suppose I’m hideous, but despite my earlier assurances to Sally, it was not one of my more glamorous moments. For one thing, I was wearing my knitted toque against the cold. No lipstick. My blue collar clothes of BDU pants, a t-shirt and steel toed work boots. He kept assuring me he thought it was Joan Crawford and I kept laughing. Afterwards I reflected, Harry is much younger than me. I’m not sure he knows who Joan Crawford is; he may have thought I meant Joan Collins.

The next time I had occasion to talk to Sally, I said, “I have so much in common with Joan Crawford!” She confessed to sharing my remarks with Harry, and told me a few silly things Harry had said about an unrelated topic (subject for another blog post? Watch out, Harry!).

Sometime later, I looked across at Harry and Sally and saw them pointing and laughing. I went over and demanded an explanation. It seems they were in the middle of a conversation when Harry had interrupted himself to say, “Oh my God, it’s Joan Crawford!” and I chose that moment to let out a huge, head-splitting yawn. Like I said, not my most glamorous day.

So today I told both Sally and Harry that I intended to use the episode for a blog post. I said regular readers may remember them as candidates for the role of French maid in a previous post. Harry’s one regret was that he had not picked more imaginative aliases. Perhaps Buttercup and Westley.

In conclusion, I think now we all know why I so rarely blog about my work. Happy Friday, everyone.

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Overheard at the Diner

Posted on January 3, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

“New Hampshire is a made up state.”

I overheard that statement in Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner, Herkimer, NY, on Monday, when Steven and I went out for breakfast. I think the guy was teasing the young boy he was talking to. He went on to say that he had never met anybody from New Hampshire and was sure the young boy hadn’t either.

The conversation may have stemmed from one of the many license plates that decorate the diner. Our own Georgia plate resides on the ceiling at the opposite end from where we sat Monday.

I did not hear the rest of the conversation, so I don’t know what, if anything, was proved or disproved. I lead with it because it was the most unusual thing that happened during our breakfast out. I know I’ve devoted a few posts to Crazy Otto’s. I have to shake things up when I can.

It’s not so easy for Steven and me to go out for breakfast together as it used to be. Our work hours work against us. New Year’s Eve, however, I didn’t work and Steven went in at 1:30. We had errands to run. A bite of breakfast at Otto’s was the way to go.

I love looking around at the decor. In addition to the license plates, there are movie posters, retro ads and more. I was especially taken with an old ad for chocolate covered Twinkies. Why would they stop making such a thing? Oh, I know, Hostess is bankrupt, Twinkies are dead. But I don’t remember seeing chocolate covered Twinkies in the decadent ’80s or ’90s either. Good chance I would have bought them, especially in the ’80s when I was young and skinny (I bet you thought I was going to say “young and foolish.” Well, I was that, too). I later heard a young voice behind me saying, “Two for ten cents,” in an impressed tone, so I was not the only one noticing the Twinkies.

Our breakfast, to get back to the real food, was very tasty. I ordered a sandwich with egg, cheese and bacon on an English muffin. It came with homemade chips and a little carrot and raisin salad. Steven had French toast, fried eggs and a very large sausage patty. And, of course, plenty of hot coffee.

The next day, we found out our friends Phyllis and Jim had eaten at Crazy Otto’s. It seems Crazy Otto’s has a gluten free menu featuring a variety of choices. Phyllis was especially delighted with the gluten free pancakes. I said, “I’m going to mention that in my blog post!” Hi, Phyllis!

Crazy Otto’s is located on Albany Street in Herkimer. For more information call 314-866-8801. You can also “Like” them on Facebook.

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New Year, Same Old Me

Posted on January 2, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

First a correction from yesterday’s post: We did not tape Santa Claus Conquers the Martians from TCM but from AMC. AMC, at that time, was a delightful destination for us, showing many features with directly interested us. Now I fear they cater to a different demographic. TCM is our go to cable source for movies, which accounts for my mentioning it by mistake.

I take so long making the correction because, as has become deplorably common these days, I don’t have much. It’s kind of a dull, no brain day for me. In my defense, it’s New Year’s Day.

I actually did not party particularly heartily last night. I didn’t even stay up till midnight. I was watching the TruTV marathon of World’s Dumbest Partiers, so I may have gotten a contact buzz. Or would that be placebo effect? The power of suggestion?

In any case, I’ve spent most of the day watching some fairly creepy things on another cable channel I discovered called Chiller, with my unwritten blog post hanging over my head in a threatening fashion. I know, a dedicated blogger would have turned off the television, picked up a notebook and Written That Post.

And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

It is the last day of my four day weekend, so it is like a Sunday, and you know what that means. Wrist to Forehead Sunday!

I bet some of my readers are hoping I make a New Year’s Resolution to write fewer lame posts. Well, I strive always to improve. I did have a nice breakfast at Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner yesterday that I may write about tomorrow.

In the meantime, I am educating myself. The current feature on Chiller is Can You Survive a Horror Movie? Already I’ve gotten some useful tips on how to survive a zombie attack. Their experts don’t offer much hope for being buried alive, however.

The hosts of the show are willingly putting themselves in horror movie situations. Perhaps in 2013 I can do that myself with some of the cheesy horror features I review. I wonder who I can get to be Bela Lugosi.

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Cheesy Christmas

Posted on January 1, 2013 by mohawkvalleygirl

I wrote in a post earlier this month how I like to write about cheesy movies and was afraid people would hate on me if I wrote that way about Christmas movies. I tried to solve the problem with a cheesy Christmas movie: Mystery Science Theatre 3000: Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.

I first heard of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians many long years ago in high school. I was writing a piece for Speech Club making fun of Milton’s “Paradise Lost” (I hated that poem), and my speech coach suggested I have one character ask another who claimed to be a great Actor (pronounced Ac-tore) if he wasn’t in Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.

In answer to the question I feel sure at least one of you just asked, yes, in fact, I could have been more of a geek. If I had studied more I would have been a great deal more geeky. I will, however, admit to a certain misfit quality, that I retain to this day.

But I digress.

I finally got to watch the silly movie when TCM showed it in, I believe, 2001. We videotaped it on our VCR, just to put it in historical context. We were charmed.

Is it cheesy, you ask. It’s like a Velveeta factory exploded onscreen! The martians’ make-up is in unevenly applied. Their killer robot looks like a homemade Halloween costume. The North Pole looks like a set from Lost In Space. When a polar bear chases the two earthling kids, you can see where the head piece is separate from the rest of the guy’s costume!

In short, this movie was begging for the robot head treatment.

It was actually just a few years ago that Steven discovered the MST3K version of the flick. We used to watch MST3K every Saturday on the SciFi Channel. However, these were in the later seasons, when Mike Nelson had replaced Joel on the space ship. They never showed the Santa Claus movie, and Steven always lamented that there was no Christmas episode of MST3K.

Imagine our delight to discover that there was so a Christmas episode and it featured a movie we already loved.

Well, now I’m getting all mushy and misty-eyed, thinking of my beloved MST3K, a truly delightful cheesy movie and, of course, Christmas. I warned you this might happen. Perhaps I should return to my DVR, where I have a fairly rancid movie involving Bela Lugosi and a baboon. I assure you, if I write about that one, no mush or mist will be involved. I hope you are all enjoying the latter part of your Christmas holidays.

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Don’t It Make My Chicken Bleu

Posted on December 31, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I thought I’d change up Wrist to Forehead Sunday with a cooking post. Saturday I figured out how to make Chicken Cordon Bleu.

The only recipe I had was the memory of a co-worker telling me how she made it in the late ’80s. That is, she told me in the ’80s. When I reminisce about the ’80s with my friends, we don’t usually share chicken recipes. But I digress.

I started out by pouring myself a glass of wine, because I like to cook with wine (sometimes I put it in the food) (I read that on a refrigerator magnet or a t-shirt sometime). I set the oven on 350 degrees to preheat and grated some mozzarella cheese.

So right away I differed from my friend’s recipe. She used slices of cheese and ham which she cut into strips and rolled up together. I had nice chunks of leftover Christmas ham my sister had given me and a brick of mozzarella I had purchased that morning.

I differed from every Chicken Cordon Bleu recipe I’d ever heard of by using boneless skinless chicken thighs instead of breasts. I have better luck with thighs not drying out on me. Plus, I like dark meat. I think you’re supposed to pound the chicken with a hammer to flatten it out, but this is something else I’ve never had much luck with. I sliced it in half through the thickest part and spread it open.

I put the grated mozzarella on, then the ham, folded it back together and rolled it in Italian Style Breadcrumbs. My mother always uses Italian Style for all her breadcrumb needs.

I put the chickens in the pan (on which I had previously sprayed no-stick cooking spray) and stuck a couple of toothpicks in them to keep them from opening back up. I’m not sure if the toothpicks were really necessary. I ended up taking them out after 30 minutes anyways, when I flipped the chickens with the help of barbecue tongs.

The chickens ended up cooking about 50 minutes total. Thirty, then flip, then check after 10, then after 10 more. While they cooked I made a cheese sauce with the extra mozzarella I had grated (I never guess the right amount).

And here’s where all you cooking purists will shake an admonitory finger at me. Also nutrition purists. I used a can of cream of mushroom soup to which I added the cheese and some spices. Well, you purists can shake your fingers or your heads or your groove things for all I care. My mother had suggested the cream of mushroom soup when I told her my dinner plans earlier. Everybody agrees that my mother is a marvelous cook. So there.

The Chicken Cordon Bleu turned out very tasty, even, dare I say, yummy. We had it with a macaroni salad I made using some leftover ziti (waste not, want not). And I am especially pleased that it enabled me to keep my wrist from my forehead on a Sunday.

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A Walk in the Dark

Posted on December 29, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

My plan for today is to get my blog post out of the way early, then spend the rest of the day having Mohawk Valley adventures or watching cheesy horror movies so that I can write more scintillating blog posts (I like to pronounce it “skintillating’). To that end, I took my dog Tabby for a walk this morning.

I’m sure some long time readers (if any) miss my Saturday Running Commentary, and I mean to get back into running. Eventually. Today I enjoyed my walk.

We left shortly after Steven left for work, which was before 6:30. All I could think of was, “It was quarter past dawn, all the Whos still abed…” But I could not think of a good way to transplant that poem to Herkimer. I did write a take-off on The Grinch once, by the way. It was “How the Lynch Stole Christmas,” written for a Sergeant Lynch I used to work with (he’s a Sergeant First Class now, I think). But I digress (wait a minute: Stream of Consciousness Saturday? Something to think about).

It was still dark, but I think the sun was up somewhere, somewhat. Too cloudy to tell. Too bad; I had hoped to catch last night’s full moon. The sidewalks were semi plowed. That is, they had been plowed and were navigable, but still had stuff on them to contend with.

I love walking in the winter. Years ago, when I was young and carless (yes, carless not careless, although I was that, too), I used to hate walking in the winter. At that time I was walking to get somewhere and that slight delay when your foot slides back a little in the snow used to weigh on me disproportionately. Now I walk for health and entertainment, and the extra effort needed clearly burns more calories.

So on we walked, enjoying the cold, fresh air and the feeling of not being on any kind of a time schedule. Lots of houses had their Christmas lights on. I like to see that. I even saw a couple of blow up displays, although some were not at full inflation. Santa was leaning out of the outhouse as if he had been partying a little too heartily. Oh well, his job is over for the year. He’s allowed.

One house with lots of decorations was not lit. I admired the hard plastic Santa and snowman they had. They looked old. I purchased my plastic Santa because he looked old-fashioned, but you can somehow tell he was purchased in recent years. This one looked as if he had been in the family for a while.

Tabby wanted to stop and sniff even more often than usual. I suppose it must be more difficult to pick up an odor in the snow (I always scoop up a little snow when I pick up her poops, another reason to love walking in the winter). I tried to keep a look out for poops left behind by other dogs. I don’t need her sticking her nose into poo.

When walking in the dark, I like to see houses with lights on inside. In the morning I like to think of people having coffee and getting ready for the day, you know, in a contented sort of way, not in an “oh crap I have to go to work” sort of way. I was feeling pretty contented myself, and my legs felt as if they had done some work. We’ll see how they feel once I start running again. Stay tuned!

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