Saturday, August 31, 2013

If I Gotta Post Everyday

Like some good bloggers I know, then this is likely to turn into a food blog. 

I have no hobbies.  I work and cook. I love cooking. Some of the best days are spent in the kitchen. 

I would never want to be a chef, that would be too much like work. I just want to cook.  When I'm not cooking or working or reading online, then I'm watching shows like Master Chef.  



One of the highlights of my trip to Italy was the pasta making lesson at the Agriturismo in Tuscany.  My nephew took pictures while the other four of us enjoyed ourselves learning how to make fresh pasta, real pesto, tiramisu and bolognese.  



BTW, all these pics belong to my nephew. Which means All Rights Reserved. With the exception of the bolognese shown on the pasta. That one I had to google because we were in such a hurry to taste ours we didn't get pics. 




True bolognese (pronounced bolo NEIGH zy). should never be served on spaghetti as it needs a stronger, thicker pasta to hold up against the sauce.

My niece and I. I realize I look pretty goofy here but I was doing everything I could to hold in my excitement of getting a real Italian cooking lesson.  

In a different life, I would love to go here for some serious lessons. 



What is also noticable about any pasta served in true Italian kitchens is that the sauce should not overwhelm the pasta. We here in the states add too much sauce to our pasta. Believe me on this one. Good pasta shouldn't be swimming in the sauce. 

By the time we reached Volterra this time we had several versions of bolognese in Venice. Most were excellent, some were mediocre. 

When we saw what the first three ingredients were in the sauce, I was assuming I wouldn't care much for the recipe we were making. At least half the sauce started with finely minced carrots, onions and celery. 

What iI didn't realize that is that those ingredients are cooked down so long until they break down.  

After nearly all the liquid from the veggies have cooked away, maybe over an hour or so, then you add the ground beef.  You don't brown the ground beef and then drain in, it goes right into the pot of cooked veggies. 

Those favors meld together for another long simmer. 

The pan in the back are the stewed peppers which were a side dish.  I was shamed into trying them and they weren't horrible. 

I wouldn't touch them, even to cut them. The smell of peppers never leave your hands. This is my brother.  That is one big ass red pepper.



This is Mark, hoping to impress the sweet chef with his charm so he could marry her and live in Tuscany.  I don't think it worked. 

Back to the bolognese. Then you add some (not a lot of) tomato sauce. By the time all of those favors cook together, the bit of grease of the meat mix with the tomato sauce and put sparingly on some hearty pasta you get something like this. 



There was nothing difficult about the whole process.  And that includes making the fresh pasta. 

My sister making the first turns on the pasta maker. 


This is my sister with our beautiful host Marinella. The best afternoon was sitting and chatting with this amazing lady. We cried when we had to leave her. 

Italian food is good because they don't overpower their food and they only use ingredients that are in season. 

In nearly every part of Italy you found very few chain restaurants.  Those are usually confined to places like McDonalds or Burger King (only saw in Rome). 



We screw up our restaurants by having so many chain stores.  How could we possible have great fresh food when it's been distributed all over the US in the same way?  

Indy does have at least one good authentic Italian restaurant. Mama Carolla's is a small place on the east side of town that serves southern Italian food.  It's not Tuscany, but it's pretty darned good. 

Cheers.  Ooops. I mean Salute. 


Friday, August 30, 2013

Backfiring

In case you weren't counting, this is my 16th day in a row to publish a post after being goaded to do so by Joe.

And what has this experiment wrought?

Fewer visitors than ever before.



Of course I can always count on Jess, Ed  (my brother from another mother), Coffey, (my husband's long lost twin),  Dave  and Dana. Although she and Coffey are threatening to quit this little circle of virtual friends. 

I haven't seen Babs on here since I started this little imagined war.  I'm not even sure if my own mom is stopping by anymore.  I did get a few random hits when Jess wanted to know how many readers he actually had and I commented about that stupid Giada and Al Roker post. 

I know.  If I posted a nasty picture of the little idiot who shall remain nameless that twerked (I STILL don't know what that means) on the long dead MTV channel I bet I would be getting all kinds of people stopping by.  Probably not the kind I want, but hey a hit is a hit right?

I still wonder who it is that is coming by here from my brother's blog that is either from Maryland or Virginia. They stop by nearly daily and never leave a comment.

Oh. Wait. Hey Joe, I DID get someone from your blog after they searched this.



And come on now, yesterday's post was funny. Well at least I still remember it being one of the funniest things that ever happened to me and it was 30 freaking years ago.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Long Before Auto Correct

Decades ago, back when offices were much more proper, I had the company controller come ask me what I thought about the management retreat that had been held at the newly opened Indianapolis Zoo.



Unfortunately for him he didn't quite ask me what he intended to.  And I just couldn't help myself from answering the question he did ask rather than answering the question I KNEW he was asking. 

So Claude walked up to my office, leaned against the door and said, "Rita, so how did you enjoy the Jew?"  

Instantly his face indicated that he was shocked at what his mouth had said. 

You know those moment when later you later think, "I wish I had said...."  

Well this wasn't one of those. 

Inspiration took over self control.  

So I immediately said, " I don't recall ever having a Jew, Claude". 


Maybe it's just me, but I find this one very attractive. 


Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Classmates dot com

Another scam.

Yeah, like this email supposedly from someone who remembered me as




I may have been a lot of things , but cool, confident, carefree or outgoing was not among them. 

I had to get a long way out of high school before I could even guess what those words might mean. 


Tuesday, August 27, 2013

They Found Me

Arrived in our email inbox on Saturday.

Oh Me. Oh My. I must contact the FBI immediately. 



I realize the NSA has gotten out of control, so it's quite a relief to discover I need to CLAIM our $10,500,000 OR I'll be arrested and charged with money laundering. 

I'm kinda liking this Big Brother government. 

Monday, August 26, 2013

Wish Me Luck

Sitting enjoying this beautiful morning drinking my Ovaltine and looking out the sunroom windows. 



While filing up the bird feeders and cleaning the birdbath yesterday I found a bird had committed haricari in the "neck" of the wire snail by the bird bath. 



Mr. Finch was found hanging by the neck caught between the rounded part of the silly wire snailly thing and the neck part.  I was filling the bird bath at the time I noticed him and was thoroughly grossed out. 

Sorry Mr. Bird. I would have saved you had I known. Perhaps I should put up a sign warning the little birds not to slide down Mr. Snail's neck or they could die. 


My sabbatical ends this morning. Heading to a new client in about 15 minutes.  Supposed to be a short term (aren't they all?), 13 weeks.  However I'm working through a consulting firm and there is a lot of work that needs done with several big clients. 

Thankfully the commute this time is about 15 minutes.  I haven't lived that close to work for thirty years. I spent ten years commuting an hour each way, wasting three weeks of my life each year riding in my car. 

Off to work. 

Sunday, August 25, 2013

I Just Couldn't Help Myself

Another travel story.

We were married in May 1991. Since we had his girls during the school year, we waited to take a honeymoon until July.

We decided to take our first cruise. Just a quick 3 day sailing out of Miami. That was back in the day when you could get a BIG airplane out of Indy direct to Miami. You know, the kind where there is a middle section.

We were in the middle section and most of the passengers were also heading to a cruise. I remember there was a young girl, probably early 20's who was dressed in a little sailor outfit. For some strange reason she just got on my nerves.

She was talking with everyone around her and it was all, "me, me, me". She was apparently a travel agent and was very impressed with her traveling skills.


I know if I was a better person her incessant chattering about herself on the 2+ hour flight wouldn't have bothered me. I just kept reading a magazine and holding Bob's hand.

After awhile I could "feel" her keep looking back at us. Again, I really tried just to ignore it and just kept reading, but it's that nagging feeling that drives you crazy.

When we landed of course everyone stood up but instead of going forward, the travel babe took a step or two back toward us. After a couple minutes, she politely and a little too cutsy said, "Oh my, you have a lovely ring." She was looking at my fairly new wedding ring.

OK, I know, it was a very nice thing to say and it shouldn't have gotten on my nerves, but somehow it did.
I said, "Thank you."

Then she said something that struck me as somewhat odd.

She said, "Your husband must love you very much."

I was a little taken aback. Apparently she was equating the size of the diamond with the size of the love, as if someone who might not be able to afford a nice diamond wouldn't love their wife as much as someone who could.

And I just simply couldn't resist.

I sweetly leaned into Bob and said, "Why thank you, when I get home I'll tell him that."

The shock on her and Bob's faces was all worth it.

Ilene

This drives me crazy about me.

Watching the Colts play football, I sit in my chair and lean in the direction of the goal with every offensive play. 

I'm sure that matters to no one. 

So here's a picture that has nothing to do with this post. 


I figure since my brother picked on me for the first 20 years of my life, I get to make up for it by picking on him for the remainder.  


And the Spanish Steps were built by the French. 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Say CHEEEESE.

Today's pic was much better.  Not sure why a cheese sandwich would make someone this happy though. 



Maybe this guy wouldn't scare you Dana 

I think he was happy during our hike in Manarola because he could irritate his baby sister the whole 6 kilometers up and down a mountainside. 


Zing em while you can.

My brother, CnC went on a hike yesterday. About halfway through he posted this picture of himself on Facebook.

I chided him about looking so angry.  

But he apparently didn't quite understand because a couple hours later he posted this picture asking if anyone could guess the sandwich he was eating. 

Notice the Miss Me Yet shirt?  

Anyway I told him if he didn't get rid of that expression on his face that Jeff Dunham was going to make a dummy of him. 

Of course he already has. 



Stop it already Mark. 

Friday, August 23, 2013

Don't Piss Off Mike Rowe

Or use his likeness in an article slamming hard work. 

Not a good idea. 

Here's what Mike had to say to some knucklehead "journalist" who dared to do so.  Take my word for it, you want to read the whole thing.  





The Real Mike Rowe
To: Steve Kloosterman
From: Mike Rowe
Re: Your Headline, My Face

Hi, Steve, 

Mike Rowe here, Dirty Jobs. Thanks to the necromancers over at Google, I’ve been alerted to your most recent Question of the Day: “Are Bad Jobs Good for the Economy and the People Who Work Them?” (http://www.mlive.com/news/muskegon/index.ssf/2013/07/question_of_the_day_are_bad_jo.html

Immediately under your headline I noticed a photo of me, taken on the Mackinac Bridge while filming a segment on Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe. 

Given the juxtaposition of my face with your headline, a reasonable person might conclude that a “Dirty Job” and “Bad Job” are one and the same. This sentiment is not only inconsistent with my own view of hard work, it’s completely at odds with the Dirty Jobs Code of Conduct, a collection of life lessons painstakingly compiled from the men and women I’ve met on Dirty Jobs. 

Over the years, the Dirty Jobs Code of Conduct has kept me from saying stupid things in the press. Today, it’s used primarily to assist writers like you with the approved use of my name and likeness. Obviously, you have never seen or heard of the Dirty Jobs Code of Conduct, since most of your article violates every clause and restriction therein. I must therefore take a moment to assure your readers that the appearance of my face in such close proximity to your headline is in no way a personal affirmation that certain types of jobs are in fact “bad.” 

Here, then, are a few basic guidelines on the proper use of my name and likeness, pulled directly from the most current version of the DJCC. Since your Question of the Day is clearly not rhetorical, I’ll attempt to answer it here, with a level of detail that could only occur on a cross-country flight with no movie, no crossword, and a dead Kindle. 

(I have no expectation that anyone with an actual job will have the time to read much further than this.) 

Steve Kloosterman, MUSKEGON, MI – Most of us can tell a story about a job from hell somewhere in our past. There’s the first job, the one we took because our parents said, “You can’t hang around the house all summer long.” Maybe it was at a fast food place or in a retail outlet.

MR - First of all, Steve, the Dirty Jobs Code of Conduct contains a Damnation Clause that clearly and unequivocally states that my photo “can not be used in conjunction with any satanic reference, including but not limited to Lucifer, Hades, Old Scratch, Hell, Perdition, Beelzebub or Honey Boo Boo.” 

Secondly, jobs don’t come from hell. They come from people with money who are willing to pay other people to work for them. 

Thirdly, I have worked in both fast food and retail, and neither one reminded me of the Netherworld. (Although the Taco Bell drive-through at 2 a.m. does smell vaguely of brimstone and sulphur.)

SK - None of us expected these jobs to lead to a career, but we did them anyway because we wanted spending money, needed to build a work history, or just plain needed something to do.

MR - Jobs are different than careers, but when you suggest that one is subordinate to the other, you diminish the value of ordinary work. According to the Work Is Not the Enemy Clause in the DJCC, my image may not be used in conjunction with “any statement or action that disparages the value of hard work, regardless of nature of the job or the amount of compensation involved.” 

SK - There’s the desperate job, the one we had to take because the price of gas shot up, or we bought a new car and had to make payments on it, or needed to pay college tuition. Maybe it was a second job, or something informal on the side, like fixing up and selling cars.

MR- You make the option of working a second job sound like the problem, not the solution. Under the Personal Responsibility Clause of the DJCC, my image “must not be used in association with any language or expression that attempts to portray hard-working people as helpless victims.” The DJCC maintains that meeting one's financial obligations is an act of responsibility, not an act of “desperation.” 

SK- And then there’s the kind of job we wouldn’t take again under any conditions, no matter how desperate or bored we were. The conditions were unpleasant if not dangerous, and the pay didn’t make up for it.

MR - I understand that some jobs are beneath you. Specifically, those jobs that you find to be “unpleasant” and “low-paying.” Unfortunately, under the Hubris Clause of the DJCC, I am forbidden from endorsing “any third-party comments that could be interpreted as elitist, judgmental, haughty or condescending.” 

SK - We can all agree that jobs falling into this last category aren’t worth having.

MR- This one, I’m afraid, is in direct conflict with the Don’t Shoot Yourself in the Foot Clause of the DJCC. You see, Steve, when your air conditioner breaks, or your toilet explodes, or termites set up shop in your home, the solution to your problem will almost certainly require people who are willing to do something ... “unpleasant.” (When you find yourself in need of these people, you’d better hope they haven’t read your column.) 

SK- But let’s talk about the first two categories of jobs. 

MR: OK. Fast-food workers, retail clerks, auto mechanics, car salesman and part-timers. The “jobs from hell.” Let’s talk. 

SK - Are they good for the people who work them? 

MR - Of course they are. 

SK - Are they good for the economy?

MR - Of course they are. 

SK - Tell us what you think in the poll and comments below.

MR - I did. I voted and then I checked the results. Then I threw up in my mouth. Apparently, most of the respondents see no value in the kind of work you’ve described. That’s a seriously bleak outcome, and a blatant violation of all the aforementioned clauses, including the Glass Half-Empty Restriction of the DJCC, which forbids me from lending my name and likeness to anything “heartbreaking, dismal, grim, pessimistic, soul-deadening or just plain depressing.”

SK - The Muskegon Chronicle and MLive.com just finished the second segment in a months-long series of articles about jobs in the Muskegon area. In the most recent segment, we wrote about low-paying jobs, and the “shadow” economy of people who hack out a living by mowing lawns, scrounging odd jobs, and anything else that comes their way.

MR - I read it. Nowhere does the writer congratulate anyone for their resourcefulness or self-reliance. Instead, you wrote that “desperate times call for desperate measures,” a clear infraction of the Hyperbole Restriction. According to the DJCC, desperation means selling a kidney to ransom your wife and kids. Desperation is not a $10 an hour construction job with no benefits, as you suggest. That’s just work. 

SK - Not all, but some, employers of low-wage workers give their employees opportunity to advance, we wrote.

MR - I have never seen a job that didn’t come with the opportunity for advancement. Union, non-union, high pay, low pay, part-time, full-time, freelance or salaried. Any worker who consistently shows up an hour early and stays late will quickly become indispensable on any job site. That’s still a great truth in the wide world of work. Unfortunately, you didn't mention that. Instead, you implied that a worker's only hope of advancement lies with the employer, another screaming inconsistency with the Personal Responsibility Clause. 

SK - People working odd jobs or doing day labor for money under the table sometimes do so because it’s the only option they have, we wrote.

MR - Agreed. But nowhere do you suggest that having one option is better than having no option. Certainly, these people are struggling, but they have not given up. They have not become wards of the state. They are looking for and in many cases finding a way to get by in a brutal economy. Certainly not ideal, but the Glass-Half Empty Restriction and the Context Clause of the DJCC both prohibit my endorsement of all “one-sided comparisons that fail to illustrate how things could always be much, much worse.” 

SK - Some people might take an optimistic view of these jobs. 

MR - Of course. Some people still see hard work as something to be respected in all its forms. The point is, fewer people share that view than ever before. The majority of people in your poll voted "no" to every question. They believe that whole categories of jobs are "bad" for the worker and "bad" for society at large. That’s a clear infraction of the Work Is Not the Enemy Clause of the DJCC, and a radical departure of the attitude I encountered in my previous visits to the great state of Michigan. 

SK- Some people might say the work needs to be done and the workers are filling that need. 

MR - I would hope so. Your own paper reported that 2 trillion dollars is being generated by this “shadow economy.” That’s 8% of our GDP. I’m no economist, but I’d wager an 8% drop in the GDP would start the next Great Depression. And while the Dirty Jobs Code of Conduct doesn’t address it directly, I’d prefer that my name and likeness avoid any direct association with the any type of economic collapse.

SK - Some will say that nobody forced people to take these jobs. That these jobs enable these people to earn money and pay for things that matter to them. These jobs may mean that individuals are able to rely more on their own earnings, and less on taxpayer-funded assistance programs. 

MR - Now those people sound more like the Michiganders I remember! The Soo Lock workers in Sault Ste. Marie, the log cabin builders in the U.P., the mobile butchers in Holland, the Bone Black workers in Melvindale, the many good folks on Mackinac Island (in those "hellish" retail and food service positions), the craftsmen at Novadai Furniture right there in Muskegon, and of course the maintenance workers on The Mighty Mac. Those people would never look down their noses at an honest day's work. No way.

SK - Others might take a more negative view. Advocates of living-wage policy might say that low-wage jobs are hurtful to the people working them. 

MR - The world is full of well-intended people who believe that prices, wages and rents should should have nothing to do with pesky things like supply and demand. While I applaud their intentions, I’m afraid the Common Sense Clause of the DJCC does not allow my name or likeness to be associated with any views or expressions that could be interpreted as “unrealistic or childlike.” 

SK - Some might say that people working in a “shadow economy” are part of the symptoms of an economic system breaking down. 

MR - I have no idea if the economy is breaking down or just evolving, but regardless, low-paying, part-time and off-the-grid jobs are here to stay. We can either talk about these jobs with a measure of dignity and respect, or we can adapt your labeling system of “Bad, Unpleasant, Dangerous, Not-Worth-Having, and Hellish.” Honestly, I don’t see the point of attacking honest work under any circumstances (although the Futility Clause of the DJCC prohibits me from expecting a cogent reply from those who do.)

SK - A few might even quote the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which states that “Everyone has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favorable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment.”

MR - That’s very sweet. Unfortunately, the Delusional Thinking Restriction of the DJCC is very clear on this: “under no circumstances will artist’s name and likeness be used to declare or proclaim anything that might suggest the endorsement of a utopian or fairy-tale state.” 

Too bad, really. If it weren't for the Delusional Thinking Restriction, I might very well petition the UN to declare and demand “protection from the ever-widening skills gap.” According to the Bureau of Labor and Statistics, 3.7 million jobs are currently available that companies can’t seem to fill ... 600,000 positions in manufacturing alone. (http://www.nationaljournal.com/next-economy/solutions-bank/why-jobs-go-unfilled-even-in-times-of-high-unemployment-20130816)


All of these jobs pay more than the “living wage.” Many provide free training and benefits. None of them are “off the grid.” They’re available right now to anyone willing to learn a new skill. Unfortunately, no one seems to want them.

SK - What do you think?

MR- Well, Steve, I’m no expert (and the Hubris Clause of the DJCC forbids me from pretending to be one), but after a lot of careful reflection, I think we might have our head up our ass. 

There’s a trillion dollars of college debt on the books, and we’re still pushing a four-year degree like it’s some sort of golden ticket. Dozens of states are facing massive shortages in the skilled trades, but we still talk about trade schools as “alternatives for the academically challenged.” And now, with record high unemployment and Detroit flat broke, you want to focus on the problem of ...“bad jobs?” Can you imagine our grandparents bemoaning the existence of “unpleasant” work? Can you imagine the greatest generation agreeing that some jobs were just “not worth having?” 

Look, I don’t want to sound like the cranky neighbor on the front porch, screaming at the kids to get off his lawn. (And yes, the Cranky Neighbor Clause of the DJCC expressly forbids this.) But come on -- 12 million people are looking for work and 3 million jobs can’t be filled? How come nobody is asking questions about that? Why is no one taking a poll on whether our expectations have replaced our common sense? Why do we talk only of “job-creation,” when we can’t even fill the jobs we have?

On Dirty Jobs, I met hundreds of men and women who found success and happiness by doing the “unpleasant" thing. I remember a guy in Washington whose first job was cleaning the grease trap in a Mexican restaurant. He moved on to washing dishes and then waiting tables. Today, he owns the restaurant, and six more just like it. I'd like to read more stories about people like that, and I bet I'm not alone.

Don't get me wrong, I care about the people you write about. For what it's worth, I run a modest foundation that's focused on scholarships for those who are willing to learn a useful skill. But let's not forget about the people who did it the hard way. People who took the jobs you dismissed as "not worth having" and then prospered. People who didn’t shy away from the “bad jobs,” and ultimately learned to love them. If you ever write a story about them, please feel free to use my image. According to the spirit of the Dirty Jobs Code of Conduct, that’s what it’s there for. 

In the meantime, give my regards to the maintenance men next time you drive over The Mighty Mac. And if the bridge is still standing, tell them I said thanks! 

Best,
Mike Rowe
Profoundly Disconnected

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Seafood and Me

Born and raised in landlocked Indiana, we grew up on on chicken, beef and pork. 

At one time or another we had raised each of them on our vast five acre "farm". 

What we didn't have was any type of seafood. Occasionally someone would catch some freshwater fish and that was a huge treat.  Nothing like fresh trout or crappie fried up in a cast iron skillet. Yumm. 

One day a friend of my dad's brought back fresh shrimp back from Florida. These weren't baby sized shrimp, they were probably 5 inches by 2 1/2 inches after they were butterflied and fried.   I can't even find shrimp that size in Florida. 

There's no way my carnivore brothers would have touched the stuff and my sister was probably out doing whatever irritating grouchy older sisters do.  It was some random afternoon and I remember sitting in the kitchen when mom just put a huge fried shrimp in front of me. 



Actually since I seemed to not like anything back in those days, I'm surprised I even tried it. 

One bite and I was hooked. 

I didn't taste lobster until I was in my twenties and my then mother in law, originally from Maine ordered the live Maine lobster at Red Lobster. 

Oh Indiana how I hate your lack of even a foot of oceanfront. 

The first scallop and the first calamari was also a Red Lobster experience.  It's hard to screw up fresh lobster, it's not so hard to screw up scallops and calamari.  Just ask Red Lobster. 

Both were like eating rubber bands. 

Then one day I was in Pittsburgh for work with about 10 co-workers.  We went to an expensive Italian restaurant.  That was back when corporations didn't pay much attention to expensive reports.  Now only non-profits or government employees get away with that kind of extravagance. 

The most senior guy of the group ordered several appetizers for the table.  

I would have skipped the scallops and calamari, but hey, it's free to me and they all looked pretty appetizing.  

That's when I learned that the image of a rubber band or chewing on a popped balloon should not be going through your head when you are eating these wonderful sea creatures.  

Cooked properly, neither should be tough or chewy.  

It took me abut 35 years to find that out. 

Now if you ask my 7 year old granddaughter her favorite foods, she'll tell you filet and calamari.  

She's going to be an expensive date.  Her mother prefers chicken over all other meats. 

What kind of 7 year old even knows what calamari is?  


Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Try Try Try To Understand

He never gave gifts.  

And maybe it really wasn't a gift, but something someone had given him and since it was an album and it was the late 70's and I was the only kid left in the house, maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing. All I know is I was absolutely shocked when he came home one evening and gave me the only thing I ever remember him giving me. 

I'm not complaining. None of us felt deprived.  It just seemed that mom had always taken care of Christmas and birthdays, signing Dad's name to the cards.  She made sure Christmases were magical for us, some of our best memories were opening our presents on Christmas Eve and celebrating Dad's Christmas birthday the next day. 

So when he came through the door that nothing-special night he yelled at me to come to the kitchen. Then he handed me Dreamboat Annie, Heart's debut album. 


Of course dad would have had no concept who Heart was or whether the album was anything a 17 year old girl would listen to, so it's likely he had gotten the album from someone and they told him one of his kids would probably like it. 

It may have been the only thing I can remember my father ever giving me, but every time I hear the songs Crazy on You or Magic Man, I think back about Dad coming home that night and handing me that album.  I still like to think he actually did pick it out for me, even if all logic tells me differently.  

I did spend months trying to figure out what could have possibly have motivated him to buy me a gift. I like remembering it that way. 

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

How Could You Resist?

I have no idea why anyone would pay good money to enter the museum, but I do know the previous time we were in Volterra, Italy I regretted not going in. 

Although it sounds really sick, I put the museum on the "must-do" list when we returned this time with extra reinforcements. Instead of three of us, me, my sister and her son, this time we had five. My brother CnC and my sister's daughter.  

It was a great traveling group. We are not a drama filled family and the five of us were determined to let nothing ruin our trip. Although it was unseasonably cool and rainy nearly everyday we were there, we all just made whatever adjustment was necessary and plowed on. 

When we reached Volterra, we saw the museum exactly where I remembered it. My sister, Helen was exhausted walking the steep hills and the unending steps in the ancient city.  She also had no desire to enter the museum. 

So the four of us shelled out a few euro and entered the small museum that had this lovely chair outside. 


The ancient town of Volterra has been estimated to be built somewhere between 2000 bc to 400 bc.  Whichever is coreect, those estimates alone are hard to even conceive.  

The Estruscans were some mean dudes that preceded Ancient Roman. 

Each of the torture devices was accompanied by detailed explanations as to how it was used. 

All I can say is those Estrucan's certainly didn't mess around with silly stuff like waterboarding. 


As we progressed along the small building, I found myself involuntarily covering my mouth with both hands as of to stifle a scream. From turning someone upside down and sawing them in half from the crotch and onward to inserting metal instruments inside various bodies cavities and them spreading them out until the insides bursts to splitting open someone's stomach just enough to let the released starving rats have a fresh meal. 

No, we didn't make my sister wait in the chair outside. 

Monday, August 19, 2013

I Know What You're Thinking.

Will she make it five days in a row?

Now you have the answer. 


Here's a picture to look at in case you're getting bored. 

The Tuscano hillside looked like a brilliant green Grand Canyon. 

Jaw dropping. Literally. 

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