Flamingo Dancer’s Neighborhood

I'm putting Patak's Mango Chicken cooking sauce to work tonight, since the kitchen is only half cleaned and I'm loathe to start a huge and messy cooking project in addition to everything else I've got to do in there.

So, start by sauteeing some chicken until it's browned, then toss it out of the pan. In go chopped onions, green peppers and cherry tomatoes. Swish around and then add the sauce. Lower heat and cook 20 minutes. Add cooked chicken and simmer another 10 minutes.

Serve with rice.

Done! Wish I could say the same for the kitchen...

Well, after my husband cleaned up the bathroom this morning, I decided it was time to go after "Hurricane Aram" and do a little cleaning up myself. He's off at a folk festival today, so I have the house to myself. What better time to get rid of the crap...err, stuff...that's been lying around.

So, I'm starting with the kitchen:

Egads the kitchen

It's the usual mess at the end of the week, only this time I've decided to clean it down to the shine. So far, I'm washing and scrubbing away. Damn, I'll be able to look at my microwave again and actually see the inside - at least until the hubby uses it again and then walks away with splatter all over the inside again. Sigh.

At one time in its life, this used to be a dining room table:

Oh no 2

And, damn it, it will be again! I don't care if I have to put a fence around it.

And, then there's just plain ol' me at the end of an exhausting week. No one else to blame:

Oh no 1

`
Yesterday afternoon I asked my taxi driver where he was from and he replied that if I guessed I could have a free ride.

I was not willing to make wild guesses based on appearance and an accent because this is fraught with the possibility of seriously offending someone.  So, we decided I could ask two questions to help me with one guess at the answer.

The questions could not include asking for cities in the country or for names of bordering countries.

So.......   my two questions:

Does your country play cricket?   No

What languages do you speak?   French, Arabic, English, and some Spanish.

I guessed the answer!!    It starts with M .... 

What two questions would you have asked?

(I did not get a free ride but he took a couple of dollars off!).

I woke up to a complete surprise this morning: my husband was cleaning the bathroom. Yes, after weeks of prodding, begging and he finally acknowledging that the house was finally getting to him, he finally started in. I saw him emerge from the bathroom with rubber gloves and a toilet brush. With all the water going, I thought he was taking a shower.

Aram's a pretty laid back guy when it comes to cleaning. "What's wrong?" he'll say. "I don't see anything wrong." Meanwhile, I'm having a heart attack looking at the house after a month or two (or three?) of don't see-don't touch. I keep threatening to get a cleaning service and he keeps saying that's something we should do ourselves.

Right. THAT'S SOMETHING WE SHOULD DO OURSELVES. Okay, go right ahead. Hear that screeching of brakes and smoke? That's my husband screeching to a halt and suddenly having many things to do that are more important.

But, this morning I guess he finally relented. The bathroom's pretty clean, although I'll have to go over the floor with a damp mop, since it's sticky to walk on. Did he notice? What do YOU think?

What, ME Clean?

I had some weird dreams last night, when I finally did fall asleep. I remember fragments of two of them, one more vivid than the other. In the vivid dream, the earth was dead. Something had happened and, basically, the earth was a goner. I remember being told not to go near a body of water of some type, because dead people were in it. There were some survivors, but not many. I was one of them. I kept wondering when things would begin to smell and where food would be coming from. Then I heard something about possibly using kinetic energy to fashion a vehicle that would escape the earth and go somewhere else (I guess). I remember seeing examples that looked like old movies of airplanes that were powered by kinetic energy. By the way, I'm not up on my energy sources and for the life of me didn't know why kinetic energy got in there. I knew there was no electricity, no oil, no gas, and no rockets or other human-made vehicles to use. All we had was what we could put together from things that were left. Actually, I just looked up kinetic energy now. Kinetic energy is the energy that is generated by an object that's already in motion. So, anything that's moving, I guess.

I remember a plastic version of an African thumb harp (kalimba). It's the small musical instrument that's made from pieces of metal attached to a wooden sounding board. You play the instrument with your thumbs, thrumming the pieces of metal to make a sound. It's very melodic, for such a simple instrument. I had something in one hand and was trying to play the plastic kalimba (which was round and very small). Somehow, this was an example of kinetic energy. Clearly, I had my energy systems wrong! It didn't sound very good, either!

A lot of the dream was devoted to next steps. Okay, here we are in disaster-land. What's next, if we want to survive? I had to learn about a bunch of new things and hoped there would be enough time to do it. Any minute I was expecting starvation and rotting corpses to start destroying what was left and me along with it.

Second dream: way less vivid and interesting. I was in my kitchen and my kitchen cabinets, the ones nearest the sink, would not close. They were off-center, somehow. Then I noticed that the hoses for our portable dishwasher were coming out of them to get to the dishwasher. That, somehow, contributed to the cabinets not closing. This is a cabinet below, not above, by the way. It's directly beneath my one and only counter top in the kitchen. (I hate my kitchen, but that's another story).

Very bizarre. Now I want to find out more about kalimbas.

Well, thank you for the comments. Yes, this will be a very intense story. I'm fortunate in that I've never been the recipient of such abusive treatment, but I know women who have - or have read about them. The trick will be balancing the many different twists the story will take. There will be several plot lines all, hopefully, running in sync with each other.

I'll put up one more chapter now, to give you an idea of the initial flow. It'll also introduce a few of the main recurring characters in the Maggie-Della series. I'd love your comments, as usual!

Oh...for more info: www.maggie-della.com

The website is a bit of an experiment. Part of it is commercial of course - to sell the first novel in the series - but other parts are a bit more whimsical. I'm trying to give Maggie and Della "voices" and identities of their own, via characterizations and blogs.

Anyway, here's chapter 1:

The Ties That Bind
by Margaret Daniels

Please note: This book is COPYRIGHT 2008 by MDM Publications!

Chapter 1: Mt. Auburn Hospital, Cambridge, Massachusetts

Alice DesChamps sat and waited. She curled a two-year old Time Magazine in her hand and stretched against the hard plastic chairs of the Emergency Room. It was late and she was tired. They'd brought the woman in hours ago, in a condition that required immediate and intensive care. So much for dinner tonight with Maggie and Alex. It would have to wait - everything would have to wait. She stood up and walked around the spartan room: a dozen chairs with low tables interspersed and a television playing a bit too loudly in one corner. And magazines, like the one in her hand, at least two years old. She smiled, sat down again and tried not to fall asleep.

A door opened from the hallway and a slender, white-haired man emerged into the waiting room. "Ms. DesChamps?" he asked to the room, turning his head and smiling when Alice stood to greet him. He was dressed in green scrubs and walked over to her with swift, sure steps. "You're Alice DesChamps?" he asked.

"Yes," Alice replied. "And you're...?"

He smiled and extended a hand. "Ed Sheppard," he said. "I'm the attending for your case...uh..." He checked a clipboard. "Allison Lavery. You're the custodian in charge?"

"Yes." She handed him a card. "Is there some place we can go and talk?"

He slipped the card into his pocket and gestured back towards the hallway. "Sure," he said. "Follow me. I need to finish up her paperwork anyway,." They started down the hall.

"Is she alright?" Alice asked as they walked.

Dr. Sheppard hesitated. "Well," he started and then stopped when they reached a small office. He escorted Alice into it, then quietly closed the door. "It's not pretty." He pressed a key on the computer and the monitor opened onto a series of windows. He began to type as he continued. "She's gone up to surgery, that's what took so long. She'll recover, but she won't be comfortable for a while. Can you make arrangements for care beyond this visit?"

Alice nodded. "Yes," she said. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts' Department of Social Services was an unforgiving bureaucracy, but she'd been in it long enough to know how to manage it. "I'll make the arrangements."

"Good." He turned his back to her for a moment, excusing himself before he did so. He began to type from his notes. "She has a daughter?" he asked.

"Yes," Alice replied, rubbing at dark-circled eyes. "Did she talk to you?"

"Very briefly. Do you know where she is?"

"No." Alice shook her head. "We think he may have taken her with him after he finished with the wife."

Ed Sheppard stopped for a moment and swung around to face Alice. "Shit," he muttered. "How long ago?"

"They're still investigating. A while, though."

"I'm sorry." He meant it. He'd been an Emergency Room doctor long enough to know what that might mean. "Will you keep in touch, let me know if they find her?" Sheppard scribbled a cell phone number on the back of a note pad and handed it to Alice.

"When will she be out of surgery?" Alice asked. "I'd like to see her."

"I wouldn't try to talk to her for another 24 hours or so," he advised. "After that, I'm sure it'll be fine."

She imagined a face blackened and cracked with bruises, smashed teeth, broken bones and pain beyond reckoning. She knew this case, knew this woman. She wasn't surprised she'd taken him back, only appalled at the inevitable consequences. She rubbed her eyes again.

"You must be tired," Dr. Sheppard said, smiling softly. "There's not a whole lot more to do here. I'll have my report for your office and for the police in a few hours. Maybe you should go home and get some sleep. I have your card. I'll give you a call if anything changes."

She stood up, feeling raw and exhausted. "Thank you, Doctor," she said and left the office. Her cell phone beeped as she entered the waiting room. She flipped it to her ear. "Alice DesChamps," she said mechanically.

"Hi." It was Maggie. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything? I just wanted to check in, make sure you were okay." Alice had called frantically from her car en route to the hospital. Alex had answered the phone. "I understand," he had said immediately. "Don't worry about us. We'll give you a call later." This was the call later.

"Hey, girl." Alice smiled and shrugged into an overcoat as she talked. "Sorry to bug out on you like that."

"No problem. More lasagna for us."

"I'm on my way home. I'm ready to drop."

"I'm sure." Maggie knew better than to ask what had just happened. Alice couldn't tell her and Maggie didn't need to hear about these types of things anyway. "Can I treat you to breakfast tomorrow?"

"That would be lovely." After today, that certainly was true. "Bring Della?"

"Don't know about that." Maggie sounded uncertain and Alice wondered if there were something on her mind. "I'll ask her anyway. Can't say if she'll want to."

"Well, just us then. Ask her, though. I could use some humor at this point." Della was one of the funniest people Alice knew. She couldn't stay down around her.

"I'll give it a try," Maggie replied, after another slight hesitation.

"Everything okay with Della?" Alice finally asked.

"I think so," Maggie replied. "She may just need a break from the routine."

"She and me both," Alice said. "I'm heading home. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She signed off and reached into her purse for her keys. Faint streaks of light began to show in the sky. She looked up at the early dawn, then down at her car.

The world was fucked sometimes.

Hi everyone.  Rough patch at the felt household.  So, I've not been posting.  Too sad, boo hoo, emotional, etc.

I did have a good swimming lesson.  I can swim.  I cannot do a flip-turn.  I get WAY too dizzy!

I'll be baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

This morning it was nearly 10 minutes into my taxi trip before I became consciously aware that "Silent Night" was playing......... 

For my entire 25 minute trip Christmas carols played whilst the driver spoke loudly into his cell phone in Arabic!  

Surreal indeed!!

Sitting in Chicago Union Station waiting for a train with a feeling near as faded as my jeans.  Oh wait, that's been done.  Sooo tired.  We had way too much food over this past week.  If you don't have an Italian Canadian family to visit, let me tell you, it is food 24/7.  The day we evening we arrived we ate at no less than 3 different places.  I'm sure if it could have been arranged it would have been more.  Antipasta at house one, pizza and beer at house 2 and prosciutto sandwiches at house 3.  It didn't end there.  The next day was the big reunion party.  Lovely plates of fruit, meats, cheeses, pastas, salads, breads and desserts.  3 or 4 generations of Maturi's in one form or another.  Amazing.

Now for how it comes to be that we are in Toronto with so much food.  My late mother in law's family is from Italy.  Back in the early part of the 20th century the family immigrated to the US.  However, when the trip was made a baby girl had to be left behind due to illness.  When the parents sent for her, the family caring for her said "no, no, the baby is too sick."  When the sent for her again, the family said "No, no, the baby is dead."  Horrible tragedy.  But. . . . The baby wasn't dead.  The aunt and uncle raised the baby as their own.  Well, the family in the US finally found out the truth and the eldest brother, Bill, was all set to meet the sister in Italy during WWII but she died 2 weeks before he could get to her village.  She had married and had 5 children, 4 of which immigrated to Canada.  So, armed with this knowledge, the US family finally hooked up with the Canadian family.  Cousins upon cousins.  Food galore.  Much fun was had by all.  One of the cousins shares a birthday with me.  We are the same age and yesterday, our birthday, was spent at Niagara Falls, and we had a huge dinner at a brazilian themed restaurant, the band sang us happy birthday, and my beloved husband got us two HUGE desserts that were enough to feed all 12 of  us.  It was a terrific birthday.  Now we are on our way home and a bit tired.  More stories later.