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MissMelisshttp://www.missmeliss.com

Monday Music Mambo

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I saw this meme, and thought it looked like fun:

Name your favorite song by . . .

Jimi Hendrix
Tony Iommi (Black Sabbath)
Paul McCartney (non-Beatles, just to make it harder)
Billy Corgan (solo, Smashing Pumpkins or Zwan)
Phil Collins

  1. Jimi Hendrix: “Voodoo Child” – I liked the name before I ever liked the song.
  2. Tony Iommi: “Turn Up the Night” – I was never really a Black Sabbath fan, but I remember kind of liking this song when the guys in school were into this band.
  3. Paul McCartney: “Band on the Run” – This got a lot of radio play when I was nine and ten years old (1979 / 1980). I remember hearing it just after PM Magazine did their story on the “Paul McCartney is Dead” hoax.
  4. Billy Corgan: “The CameraEye” – No reason, I just like it.
  5. Phil Collins: “Separate Lives” – It’s all tied up in high school and college and teenaged angst and melodrama, for me. In a good way.

Cassoulet

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Oil lamps left an eerie yellowish glow on the false fronts of each building, a glow that was at once comforting and strangely foreign, as we dashed from doorway to doorway, arc of light to arc of light, along the uneven cobblestone street in the old part of town. We knew, of course, that they were there just for show, that each of the buildings we passed had all the modern conveniences hidden away beyond the parts the public could see, but somehow in the sudden storm, they made the shadows appear to live, giving chase to us as we searched for the cafe that had been so highly recommended.

“What’s the address, again?” my husband asked, impatient with me for not being able to keep up, though he tried to hide it, as he always did.

“Four-twelve,” I said. We looked up at the doorway where we’d paused. The numbers were blurry, but we could tell we were in the three hundred block. “Almost there,” I added, although it was obvious.

Another few buildings, a dash across a rain-slick brick street, and we were opening the door into warmth and light, wood smoke, and the scent of something amazing.

The chimes on the door brought an old woman bustling from the back. She was wearing one of those skirts that could have just as easily been from last year or a hundred years ago, and a crisp white blouse, with a red shawl tied around her waist. Her hair was glossy black; her eyes a rich brown – she looked, in fact, very like my great-aunt, except that Aunt Maria would never have been caught dead in lipstick that shade of orange.

“You are Mireille’s friends?” It was technically a question, but there was no doubt in her tone. We nodded, as she continued, “Welcome, welcome, the cassoulet is ready, and the wine just needs to breathe.”

We joined her other patrons around a single, round, butcher-block table, and ate while we watched the rain continue to fall beyond the plate-glass window, and the green-painted door.

Sock It To Me

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Striped Socks from Hue

While I wear flip-flops much of the time, when it’s cold or rainy, or the setting is inappropriate for sandals, I have a rule that my socks have to match what I’m wearing. Because of this I have an entire drawer of socks, tights, knee-high stockings – pretty much anything you can put on your foot that isn’t a shoe.

I really like trouser socks, because they’re thin enough for dressy shoes but still come in pretty colors and interesting patterns. Quite a lot of my socks are striped, in various colors. I’ll spare you the entire catalogue of them.

Just as I tend to go online to buy shoes, I also like to go online to buy socks. Hue socks are among the brands I know and like because their stuff is pretty, and their prices are great – 3 pairs for $15 for the cute striped socks in the picture.

Hue‘s offerings aren’t limited to socks, of course. They also sell cute pajamas and lounge wear, and tights. (May I just say, I love tights?)

Even cooler, they’re not limited to online shoppers. You can order them online (shipping is $5 per order) or you can find Hue socks in stores like Macy’s, Dillards, and Nordstrom.

Either way, your toes will be happy you tried Hue.

9:17 AM

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… and it’s already nearly 90 degrees. Wake me up when summer ends, please?

In truth, this summer’s been pretty mild, and it isn’t even all that humid, really. But I wish it would rain again. Soon. I like rain. I especially like the way it rains every day for about 20 minutes in places like Colorado, almost as if someone’s scheduled a daily downpour.

This Friday is my birthday.
I’ll be 37.
I don’t feel that old.
But I also don’t see the point in lying about my age.

The dogs and I just got back from morning walkies. Cleo has very thick soft fur and does not do well in the heat. This means that she stops pulling after half a block. Zorro, despite his medical issues, is speedy and spirited, bounding over tiny rocks as if they were huge boulders, jumping onto curbs, and landing weightlessly in the grass, and walking with his tail curled happily over his back and his ears alert for anything and everything we might encounter.

As for me, I’m hot, and sticky, and so I shall end this.
Shower. Coffee. Work.

Unconscious Mutterings #236

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I say… And you think… ?

  1. Voyage :: of the Dawn Treader
  2. Patricia :: the Stripper
  3. Transformation :: metamorph
  4. Vocabulary :: lessons
  5. San Francisco:: bonfires on Ocean Beach
  6. Edward :: Scissorhands
  7. Sawyer :: Tom
  8. Literary :: aspirations
  9. Tiger :: Lily
  10. Seal :: skin

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Sun Surf Sandals

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I may not live near the beach any more, but I live in sandals for at least 75% of the year. In the house, I wear froufrou flip-flops like these Reef Sandals, while outside the house I’m more a Born or Teva woman, depending on the day and the outfit. (I can’t quite manage to wear flip-flops outside the house, except on spa days.)

The problem with living in sandals so much of the year, is that even in Texas where winter is brief and relatively mild, there are rarely a wide selection of them in the stores before April or after August. This is why I love online stores like http://www.active-sandals.com. They’re open all year, and they carry Reef, Teva, and Keen, the last of which is really designed for truly active people, but I wear anyway because I’ve got a tendency to stub my toes.

Unlike brick and mortar shops, Active-Sandals.com is open 24/7, 365 days a year, and you can special order odd sizes of most things. They offer free shipping on orders over $75, and don’t charge tax, both of which are pretty cool. If you’re not happy with what you ordered, they also let you return it, as long as you haven’t worn the sandals, which is pretty reasonable for an online shoe store.

Alas, they don’t sell Borns, but that’s okay because frankly, I’m eyeing the pink Reef flip-flops right now.

Tabby

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My house has been adopted by an orange tabby cat. It’s a pretty cat, scrawny, the way street cats are, but the fur looks healthy, if a tad dirty, and it’s been sleeping on our front porch for about three weeks now, on and off. Today, when the porch got too hot, it was underneath the shrubbery against the foundation of the house, um…cat-napping.

This, of course, has kicked Miss Cleo into “Queen of the House and Protector of All She Surveys” mode, because she’s part Staffie, and thinks any movement beyond the doors is an attack upon herself. She sits inside the door with her black nose pressed against the glass making low, threatening growly sounds, almost like she’s percolating.

The cat deigns to raise its head every so often, then goes back to sleep.

This makes Miss Cleo even more pissed off. Kitty should be scared, dammit, she growls. Then she comes to me for attention whining abut how Kitty won’t run away when she growls.

I thank her for her diligence, pat her on the head, and ask her where her chewy is. She dutifully trots off to find her chew-stick, and this keeps her occupied for an hour or so.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Dog Days

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It’s a bit past two in the morning, and my eyelids are heavy, but I’m not quite ready to turn out the light. I am writing in bed, where the words flow more freely than anywhere else, except in the bath, though I never write there, I just have small thinking sessions.

As I write this, Fuzzy is upstairs playing computer games and Miss Cleo is flopped out between the edges of the covers, and the edge of Fuzzy’s pillow, with her nose under the comforter and one paw on top of it. She isn’t snoring yet, though she does. Low, doggy snores that sound as furry as her wriggly black and white and pink body is. Soft. She’s so soft, like a plush toy. She looks like one, when she’s all flat and asleep.

Zorro is not sleeping, and though I have the covers drawn up to my chest, almost, and he is on top of them, he is pressed tightly against my right thigh, and I can feel his head bobbing as he licks his crossed paws. Like cats, chihuahuas are obsessive about grooming themselves. Unlike most other dogs, chihuahuas have no body odor. In fact, this morning Zorro smelled like marshmallows and cinnamon, which is odd, since I haven’t used the latter in a while, and we don’t have the former in the house. When I turn out the light, he will walk to the end of the bed, around my feet, and back up, where he will curl up against my left side, nestling into the curve of my arm. He does not like to sleep between us – we humans move around too much.

Zorro had a tough morning. We took him to the vet who confirmed that yes, he has a tooth root abscess. He tried to pull the tooth (with a local), but our boy dog wouldn’t cooperate. He’s usually good at the vet, but I can’t blame him – I find it difficult to sit still when a dentist is going after my teeth, too. The vet assured us that while a ruptured abscess would be gross, and would require cleaning/disinfecting, it won’t kill the dog. This is good, as we were worried about his, having heard horror stories. He also said that the the tooth has to come out or this will happen again, and that it will require general anesthesia. We expected this. We were not expecting to be told that this could not happen without a full cardio workup ($500) because Zorro’s stage three heart murmur is now a four-and-a-half to five (on a scale of six). Frankly, I think it’s stupid, as having a picture of his heart will not reduce the risk one iota, but I really wasn’t in the mood to argue. I AM asking a vet-friend who no longer practices, but teaches, for a second opinion.

His last dental cost $500. I don’t have a spare thousand lying around to spend on Zorro right now.

So the plan, for the moment, is to give him his course of antibiotics and pain meds, watch the abscess, and clean/disinfect if it ruptures. A rupture MAY push the tooth out, or it may fall out (he lost the same tooth on the other side earlier this year, with no warning – we simply found a dog tooth on the floor one morning). In a couple weeks, when cash flow is better, and if my vet-friend supports the decision, we’ll do the cardio stuff. Zorro’s showing no symptoms right now – no coughing, no energy loss (he’s more energetic than ever), no struggling to breathe. These are all good things.

I’d feel more comfortable about all of this if I liked my vet more. I don’t dislike him. I just don’t have a connection with him. I don’t believe he has a vested interest in my dog’s well-being, and this worries me.

On the other hand, I love Zorro. I love Miss Cleo as well, but Zorro…Zorro’s special. He always knows when I don’t feel well, and stays near by. He growls at possums that are twice his size, and tries to bait the Rottie across the fence. When I have cramps, he curls up against my lower back, and if I make popcorn he goes through his entire repertoire of tricks just to get a piece while it’s still hot. He’s a very sweet dog, and we rescued him from the streets.

He’s also at least ten, and possibly older. Somewhere between eleven and thirteen, and while chihuahuas can live to fifteen or eighteen years old, Zorro’s already been through severe epilepsy (cluster grand mal seizures, weekly for over a year) and bounced back from it. So chances are even if he’s as young as we think he his, he’s not as resilient as we want him to be.

It’s taken me almost 20 minutes to write this. I’m tired, and itchy, and post-show wired-ness has dissipated, so I think I shall switch off the computer, and the light, and get some sleep.

Especially since Zorro is looking at me with big brown eyes, and Miss Cleo has started snoring, and somehow it feels as if this year, August really does have “dog days,” even if it IS my birthday month.

Oooh-la-la Olallieberries

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In my Friday’s Feast post this week, I was asked about my favorite pie, and I answered “olallieberry,” which is apparently not a terribly common berry.

In the interest of converting the world to my tastes, educating the public, then, I give you the following:

The olallieberry is a cross between the loganberry (blackberry x raspberry) and youngberry (blackberry x dewberry), and tastes a little darker and a little tarter than any of them, with a little more complexity to the flavor. In the store, if they weren’t labeled, you’d mistake them for blackberries, most likely.

But they’re ALWAYS labeled. Why? Because while they aren’t rare, they do have a limited growing season. In fact, in Northern California their growing season is mid-June to mid-July, and they’re pretty much only grown in California.

The best time to eat them is in the first three weeks of June, which, coincidentally, is about the only time Olallieberry pie is ever offered in restaurants. They’re a coastal berry. If you’ve never sat in the sun in Santa Cruz or San Luis Obispo, tasting the salty tang of the breeze and sipping coffee while eating a slice of Olallieberry pie, you have missed out on a “perfect moment,” at least food-wise.

Olallieberries are sometimes marketed as marionberries, which is not correct, since marionberries are a cross between olallieberries and Chehalem berries, as per this chart.

Olallie, by the way, is the Chinook word for “berry.”

Friday’s Feast – 0708.10

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Appetizer
What is your favorite kind of pie?
I’m not really a pie person, but if I have to choose? Olallieberry. It’s best when eaten at a sidewalk cafe near the Pacific Ocean, also.

Soup
Name something that made you smile this week.
An early birthday present from my parents.

Salad
What do you do to cool off when the weather is hot and humid?
I’m fortunate to have a backyard pool, so I frequently plunge in for a dip.

Main Course
You receive $1,000 in the mail with a letter that says you can only use the money to redecorate one room in your home. Which room do you pick, and what do you buy to spruce it up?
The library. $1,000 buys enough lumber and paint for a ton of bookshelves.

Dessert
Fill in the blank: My clock says it’s bedtime, but I would really rather stay up and write.

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