Move along, nothing to see here.

I have no words of wisdom to share. I used to. Now I find myself writing here about curtains and food – how shallow can you get.

There was a time in my life, when I thought I knew everything, that I would pontificate on what was right and wrong. I was more than happy, nay even compelled, to tell you how to live your life.

Now – not so much. Not at all.

Have I got opinions? Hoo-boy, do I ever. Some of those opinions come from experience but I have learned (Hallelujah, the woman learned something!) that my experience is not YOUR experience. While there may be parallels and similarities, we are different people. While we might have even shared an experience (and yes, I am thinking of a specific situation) I have my story and you have yours and I have no right change your perception of our overlapping stories.

I will not rain on anyone’s parade.

I will listen to whatever you have to say and that will be the only comfort I will offer – that you are heard. You can cry on my shoulder any time, I will offer a tissue to wipe the tears and nothing more.

If you ask my advice I will decline. Unless it is something practical. Even then, so often, there is more than one way. If I know you well I might share my tips and tricks but with the caveat that it is my way, neither right nor wrong, just how I do it.

I will never offer you some trite bit of inspirational rah-rah. I would gag and choke if I did. I’m not the inspirational type (tho I am fond of “She believed she could, so she did”) I don’t support that old saw about how you can achieve whatever you set your mind to – and magical thinking is for daydreams.

But then – if that’s what keeps you sane and moving forward, or at least not falling over – I will keep silent.

I’ve learned to keep myself to myself. I will share with you the truths of my life but only as facts that apply to me – this was my life, this is my life – stripped of emotions. And in no way an example for you to follow or avoid. You can’t learn from my mistakes, only your own. And only if you want to.

I have written some lovely thoughtful little essays, they are there in my no longer active blog on Blogger, but those lovely little thoughtful essays are advice and observations with a touch, just a small bit, of hubris.

On my “About” I have a quote – “The first thing you should know about me is that I’m not you. A lot more will make sense after that.”

I once lived a big life in a big world; now I live a small life in a small world. I’m not really okay with that, but that’s my problem.

So – hey, aren’t those curtains fun!

Not only do I not like to cook but

most of the time I’m not that thrilled with eating. I don’t have an eating disorder I’m just bored. So many years eating, so many years cooking – the whole thing has gotten old. 

Occasionally I cook something I do like to eat, it’s never very complicated because if it takes more than 1/2 hour (or thereabouts) to prepare I’m not making it.  Being Italian a lot of the things I cook involve tomatoes, garlic, wine and macaroni.  Monday it included sausage. 

Easy-peasy – take the sausage out of the casing and pinch off small chunks, brown in a little olive oil, throw in a whole lot of garlic, some plain ole diced tomatoes, white wine, basil, oregano and let that simmer while the macaroni is cooking. Looks like this:

one

When the macaroni is done, add it to the pan of sausage and sauce, mix it up real good, dish it up, add some Romano cheese and voilà. You got yourself a big bowl of yummy in basically a 1/2 hour – 

two

This I happily cook and even more happily eat.

Sometimes crazy works!

One of my love/hate things about our apartment is the window situation. I love that our living room/dining room has 17.5 feet of window – Yes, that’s right, 17.5 feet of window. What I hate about it is trying to get window treatments. Most people with our same apartment layout have vertical blinds. Seriously? Vertical blinds? No. Without going into an 8 year history of me trying to find window treatments that I could live with I finally settled on lace curtains. I know, lace curtains – but I love lace curtains. So this is what 17.5 feet of lace curtains looks like – 

4sized

The other day I took the curtains down to wash them and I just wanted something new. Something fun. I need new. I need fun. And I’m crazy. So I went with hippie dippy silver glitter string curtains. (I have these in green on the hall bathroom shower stall which we don’t use).

Here for your delight is my wall of silver glitter hippy dippy string curtains…

14edited

9edit

Cool huh? Yeah…I’m loving this!

Boy Howdy!

Isn’t that a fun phrase? I used it last week, either in one of my posts or in a comment, and now I can’t get it out of my head. How it got into my head in the first place, I have no idea.  According to the Dictionary of American Regional English (DARE) it is a Texan-ism.  I’ve never been to Texas.

When I lived in New York I went out with a few Texans, businessmen just passing through don’tcha know, and I found them delightful gentlemen to spend an evening with.

DARE, like the OED, are wondrous books to scroll through. I was introduced to the OED in college and always swore I would get myself a copy, never did. They have, or had, a compact version that came with a magnifying glass because the print was that small – 20 volumes smooshed into 2.

William Safire wrote a language column for the New York Times Sunday Magazine and that’s where I first came across DARE – he was reviewing the volumes as they came available and I promised myself when it was completed I would get myself a copy of that too. I didn’t. I really should, what could be more fun than to get lost tooling around such an amazing dictionary.

Odd things that pop into my head most often are delightful things, fun stuff. Last night as I was drifting off to sleep a song popped into my head and I only knew the chorus, which I mentally sang over and and over…ear worm time when I should have been sleeping. “Hooka tooka, my soda cracker, Does your Mama chaw tobacca, if your Mama chaw tobacca, then hooka tooka, my soda cracker”

I gave up on the sleep idea and grabbed my iPad and looked up “Hooka Tooka”. Turns out to have been written by Ernest Evans aka Chubby Checker. The lyrics make no sense whatsoever but the tune is kinda catchy – 

Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Does your momma chaw tobacca
If ya momma chaw tobacca, say
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Does your momma chaw tobacca
If ya momma chaw tobacca, say
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Who your love, Who your love I say
You know I love my mother-in-law
If your love momma like you say
Why can’t momma chaw
Everybody yup
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Does your momma chaw tobacca
If ya momma chaw tobacca, say
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Momma loves momma loves you all
And you know I’m her son-in-law
If you love me like you say you do
Chaw tobacca too
Hey Ar
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Does your momma chaw tobacca
If ya momma chaw tobacca, say
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker
Hooka Tooka my soda cracker… 

Now then, as is my wont, when I saw there were other versions of Hooka Tooka I had to delve further into its meaning and origin. It’s somewhat interesting but since some of it involves Judy Henske I won’t bother boring you with it. (I don’t like Judy Henske.) And some of it revolves around “Icka Backa soda cracker” and/or “Acka Backa soda cracker” and I also won’t bore you with that.

I’m just gonna keep with my original earworm – which I had managed to get out of my head until I started writing this…Fun as it is, Make It Stop!