WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Wow, this Winter weather just makes me ravenous. A quick trip outdoors and I come into the house hungry and cold and ready for something warm and tasty right away. It seems all my recent posts have been about food, and I guess I am waxing nostalgic more than usual about comfort foods of days gone by. Well, if you can stand more reminiscing … today, while I was standing at the stove slowly stirring the saucepan filled with canned condensed soup, I was recounting wonderful soups I’ve supped on back in the day. Nothing like a steaming and simmering cast iron pot of soup on the stove and the promise of that tasty soup coursing through your entire body after a long, cold commute home. For years I took the bus and brutal Winter temps or snowy days like we’ve seen throughout January are just despised by people who take public transportation. Though I only had a few houses to walk down the street to catch the bus in the morning, when the bus showed up in the a.m. or p.m. was sometimes another story. After the end of the workday, my bus buddies and I would often queue up for extended periods of time, huddled together in a bus shelter built for about ten people tops, peering down the street for the next SMART bus. You were grateful to see that big white bus with its orange stripes as it rounded the corner and you’d quickly pile on and settle in for the long commute home. Often the bus would groan along the snow-covered roads or the engine sometimes would whine and sputter in fits and starts in the cold weather as you made your slow journey home. Crossing Fort Street after hopping off the bus was an adventure, especially when huge banks of snow or slick roads made it difficult to cross, even with the streetlight. I’d arrive home, Winter weary and oh so glad that I had a warm house to spend the night in. Many times I’d be so happy to be home for the night, I’d leave my keys in the door in my hurry to shuck my warm weather gear and sit down to the aromatic dinner that I smelled just as soon as I opened the door. Oops! My mom loved to experiment with different soups and would try several new recipes during the course of the Winter. She usually always stuck with her favorites though: Sweet and Hot Italian Sausage with Spinach Tortellini Soup, Mary Ruggles Kielbasa and Cabbage Soup, Pauline’s Pot Roast Vegetable Soup and the more traditional Split Pea and Bean soups. The latter two were chock full of Honey Baked Ham pieces left over from our holiday meal. Often she’d send me to the butcher shop to get a soup bone to simmer all day with each new pot of soup. Once each Winter season, Mom would also make her Chicken Noodle soup laden with big, fat doughy noodles made by hand and which resembled cauliflower chunks. It was a recipe her grandmother passed down to her. My great grandmother lived on a farm and when she wanted to make chicken soup in the cold months, she’d trot out to the coop, pick out a chicken, sharpen the axe and … well you can guess the fate of the poor chicken, but he made a tasty broth. My mom’s soups were always enjoyed in hearty brown earthenware French Onion soup bowls with their stubby handle and heavy lid, ladled right from the pot and enough soup was saved for the following day, then the rest was portioned into Tupperware bowls and tucked up in the freezer. By March, there was a nice variety of soups to pick from and merely pop into the microwave. The highlight that accompanied the homemade soup was hot garlic bread slices. My mom would have the small bread slices sitting on a cookie sheet until she saw the whites of my eyes, then popped them in the oven. I couldn’t get out of my work clothes fast enough. Today, I thought of those delicious homemade soups that I just sort of took for granted through the years while I sipped my canned Cream of Tomato soup from an over-sized mug and munched on my grilled cheese sandwich, which oozed Havarti cheese from each end. Well, this soup fest sure was not the same, but I must concede, that I agree with Campbell’s proclamation that “soup is good food” … oh yeah.

Once dawn arrived, through the peephole in my front door, it didn’t look half-bad outside. I didn’t see any snow or ice in the driveway, and I was wearing my radio headphones and doing some kitchen chores, so I didn’t hear that wind gusting. The WJR weatherman said it was cold – well, of course it’s cold, it’s Winter! While I checked the fridge to get the garbage ready to go outside, my mind toyed with the idea of bundling up and going for a walk since I was headed out anyway. Well that bright idea soon vanished when I opened the screen door and it went flying and I had to grab the door with both hands to pull it back. Next time, I opened the door cautiously then slunk through the narrow opening and quickly pulled the door shut behind me, knowing my foray would be brief. As I stepped outside, an Arctic blast of air blew icy crystals off the awning over the door, whipping those frosty bits back at me and stinging my face. The wind gusts drilled right through the open weave of my wool hat and nipped at my ears and head as well. I decided all this bleak and dreary day would see of me was depositing the garbage bag and a quick trip to the garage to run the car. I opened the garage door and a whoosh of cold air and ice crystals streamed past my booted feet, swirled around the back of the car and then continued heading underneath the car with a vengeance. I started the motor and sat for a few minutes surveying the assorted pots and planters and colorful yard ornaments, thinking that this will be a long four months before they vacated their space on the shelves and migrated to their usual positions around the house and yard. While waiting for the fumes to clear, I grabbed my broom in search of icicles to whack, when another cold shot of snowy air blew in my face. Enough already! Of course this brutal and blustery day is just a harbinger of the next few days’ weather events, and further Winter maladies that ol’ Mother Nature has tucked up her cardigan sleeve. The weather folks are calling this next Deep Freeze event a “son of the Polar Vortex” … well, I don’t care what type kin or shirt-tail relative this new weather disturbance is, I already don’t like the sound of how it threatens to wreak havoc with our week. Time to hunker down as much as possible inside with some comfort food. It sure is easy to gain weight during the Winter months. You don’t have to wonder why Kraft proclaims they are running low on Velveeta cheese and a “Cheesepocalypse” is imminent. Not only are people gathered around watching football games and dipping their chips and crudités into smooth and creamy Velveeta, but bring on the baked macaroni oozing with Velveeta cheese and topped with a crispy baked-on crust. Kraft Dinner just is not the same, even though I close my eyes when I stick my spoon right into the pot and pretend, it isn’t made-from-scratch mac-and-cheese. My personal comfort food was always piping hot bread pudding with a dollop of ice cream. Well, today I heated up some chili to chase the chills away and had a crisp apple and slice of cheddar cheese as a chaser, but a girl can dream of comfort food from days gone by … those memories of good eatin’ warm my heart and fill me up to the brim and get me through these long, cold Winter days.

… since they have been duly peeled, sliced up and then buried in cups of cottage cheese with covers in the fridge. But now the house reeks of the sickening smell of overripe bananas. I went to the grocery store mid-week and laid in more provisions in case the wintry weather keeps me housebound until I dare venture out in my car again. As you know from reading my posts, snow gets me frenzied and fractious, so every year I stock up on pantry items when the weather is favorable and just go to the store occasionally for fresh food all Winter. Meijer did an admirable job of remodeling their produce department from top to bottom, but on the day I was there, the large counter was brimming over with bright green bananas … every last one of them. Well, I brought home a bunch anyway and snagged a large brown paper bag when I was packing up my groceries, having remembered my mom’s old trick of tucking a couple of oranges along with green bananas into a paper bag to speed up the ripening process. Once home, I broke apart the bunch of bananas and tossed them in the bag and loaded two of my Cara-Cara oranges into the sack and crumpled down the top and put it into a warm and dark hall cupboard. I peeked into the bag on Thursday night; they were gettin’ there, but still tinged with green so I fastened the bag up tight once more. I peered into the brown paper bag this morning and had one moldy orange and a large bunch of speckled bananas meaning they would be overly sweet … and mushy. Well, so much for momisms. I suppose if the bag trick didn’t work out for Mom, those freckled-up bananas would be relegated to banana bread batter and in record time a loaf of moist banana bread was creating a delightful aroma in the kitchen. I’d have a treat for breakfast or lunch of generous slices of banana bread with a half-inch layer of peanut butter. Yum! Well, I am no Betty Crocker so making banana bread was not an option. I generally peel and slice all my bananas at one time and plop them into cups of cottage cheese so I have ready-made treats for snacks – less muss and fuss that way. While I am slicing, I steal the equivalent of one or two whole bananas in bites as I am preparing the cups. I do hate to waste food, so I set to work on my task today, almost expecting fruit flies to magically appear and buzz around the kitchen. Well, after I peeled all those sad-looking bananas, while they were laying like logs on the paper towel awaiting my knife, I now know how Joey Chestnut feels when he gazes down at the pile of hot dogs just before the annual 4th of July Nathan’s Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest. There was absolutely no a-PEEL at all.

I hustled out to do some errands before the snow, ice, bitter cold or freezing rain returned, thus thwarting any car trips for this Winter Wienie. The buggy got a run and a bath, and I picked up a few groceries. I must admit my meals are rather boring since I’ve given up fried food, fast food and sweets, and there really is not any type of fare that beckons me, that is, except fresh bread. At Meijer, where I do my grocery shopping, I never stray into the freshly made bread area; I simply avoid it and head to the cheese section via another route. But a stockperson had their cart and multiple cartons in my way thus I bravely marched right through the artisan bread area. Big mistake! Oh those delicious-looking boules looking ever so crusty beckoned me, but I looked away. Then, I strolled past the demi-baguettes and full-sized baguettes standing up like soldiers winking at me from their wicker baskets, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from their wrappers and I succumbed right on the spot. Those baguettes called out to me and I cast aside my sensible whole-grain tortilla wraps in favor of a harvest multi-grain demi-baguette from Ace Bakery. I envisioned it slathered with a wee bit of buttery spread, then lavishly topped off with a huge dollop of Jif crunchy peanut butter. I think my mouth was watering so before saliva droplets landed in the bread aisle, I quickly grabbed one and stuck in my cart, in case reason and sensibility overtook my olfactory perception. So that was my lunch today – the entire thing. I guess I over-indulged but I’ve never made it a point to punish myself and go on some type of binge after one little slip-up. I could say something cute like “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing” but, hey, I wasn’t going to let that sucker get stale and perhaps wreak havoc with my spanking new crown. Put it in the freezer? Nah, I hate that freezer-burn bread taste after it defrosts. I was mature and had an scrumptious Opal apple for dessert, however. I try to take care of myself and live a healthy lifestyle … luckily I am not tempted by treats or sweets on an everyday basis. And how are your New Year’s resolutions going as we enter mid-January?

Well, I started my Winter exercise bike-riding regimen this morning. There were no excuses about a cold basement today, so off I marched at the crack of dawn. I did a handful of half-hearted stretches then climbed aboard. All was going well until the furnace kicked on then I stopped so I wouldn’t get overheated. (Good excuse!) I used to run oscillating fans in the basement in the Winter when I rode my exercise bike but I decided against it, hoping it would motivate me to pedal faster, get the miles done and head back upstairs. While I could never hope to accomplish the feat nor have one-quarter of the stamina of the riders in the Tour de France, I do hope to get some good cardiovascular activity going and keep my legs strong so I am able to hit the ground running when weather permits and I start walking again. So today, while the bike became my wheels of choice over a car, not far away Henry Ford’s creation puts Detroit into a favorable light during the North American International Auto Show which press previews began this morning. I was surprised to hear the NAIAS is already in its 25th year as an international auto show … wherever did the years go? I know from working for decades in the City, the regular downtown Detroit workers regarded the auto show as an annual annoyance. The attorneys, especially, would grumble about it because they could not find a restaurant to eat, especially during auto show preview week, and parking became a real pain, even if you were a prepaid parking garage tenant. We used to have to ask the Buhl Building parking garage to block off a certain amount of parking spaces if clients or other counsel were expected at our office, otherwise the parking was at a premium and they often could not find a place to park. If our attorneys left the office for a few hours, the garage attendants would put a barrier across their vacated spot because parking spaces were that dear. The auto show is indeed Detroit’s jewel, especially the Charity Preview Night this coming Friday evening, and the event will not even pale in comparison to all the glitz and glam of last night’s Golden Globe Awards festivities. At least people can see the revitalized Cobo Hall and our beautiful auto show and witness Detroit in a different light then the barrage of blight and bankruptcy photos that tarnish our fair City.

Since I stopped walking, and before embarking on the bike-riding regimen, I’ve treated myself to sleeping in later than usual, and it’s a real treat when I don’t set the alarm, like last night. It felt good to know I had nowhere I had to be and could log in some extra hours of snoozing while the rain pitter-pattered outside and the snow quickly melted into rivulets and headed down into the sewer. The wacky weather this past week has been great fodder for blog posts and the number one topic for national and local news alike. When I awoke this morning, after just curling up contentedly a few minutes, I put my radio headphones on so I could snuggle down under the covers and still catch up on the news and the weather report. How many times this week have we heard the sentence “if you don’t have to go out, just stay inside” … well, this morning’s weather menu was windy, foggy, rainy and black ice; and, oh yes – steer clear of potholes.

I was thinking about the TV commercial about the man going out in the horrible weather and the cold preparation that was being touted which made the rounds several years ago. I looked it up on YouTube. I couldn’t find the actual commercial, but here was the song used in that ad. You might remember the phrase to “button up your overcoat ….” You’ll get a chuckle and this song will be in your ear for a long time afterward http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UliCMEdTFE

Now, the newscasters can go back to focusing on the flu and how widespread it is. Every time I switch the news on, it seems more people have died or are on life-support with the flu. Well, that’s kind of scary, especially if you didn’t get a flu shot, but some people swear they’ve never received the flu shot, yet never got the flu either. Well, as a former Girl Scout, I am always prepared. I got the flu shot, eat alot of oranges and apples and am getting more rest these days so I hope to stay healthy. When I was a kid, I loved going to school and hated to miss it for anything. My mom used to order two gallon-sized bottles of cod liver oil malt from Eaton’s catalog every Fall and every morning my father and I would line up at the kitchen sink to get our daily dose. Although she wouldn’t touch the stuff, Mom would dip down with her teaspoon into the huge amber bottle of horribly fishy-smelling (and fishy-tasting) substance, and bring that spoon out, dripping with all its brown “goodness”. She’d twirl the gooey cod liver oil malt around the spoon, as if she were dipping molasses or honey, then she’d say “here” aiming it for our respective mouths. Yuck! A big glass of water for each of us was sitting on the counter nearby, ready to chase down that awful taste. But it warded off cold and flu germs for the most part, though, unfortunately, it didn’t stop me from getting both the measles and chicken pox in the same year, on my mom’s birthday and Mother’s Day, respectively. Nice kid I was! Take good care of yourself, get lots of rest and push away those sweets in favor of fresh fruits and veggies so the flu doesn’t slam you.

Once again the sunny sky belied the true temps and frigid conditions. Absent on this morning’s trip outside were the birds who must have decided they would find a human more in tune with their needs … I missed them. I almost pulled the car out to run it in the driveway, but it was way too slick at the entry to the garage. Years ago, I was pulling the car in and slid on a small icy patch thus nicking the passenger side-view mirror, so I decided against it. The car started right away and I had to leave the garage door up for a few minutes to get rid of the noxious fumes so I peered down to Fort Street where everyone seemed to be zipping along. Tomorrow the poor drivers will deal with freezing rain and a dusting of snow on their morning commute. However do you all do it? I would be a basket case by now! Do you think this pair is up to no good? Maybe they are looking for a snack to share. Perhaps we humans could learn a lesson here.

In the wilderness is the preservation of the world. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Well today I wasn’t alone while I trekked outside on Day #3 of this Deep Freeze saga. After bundling up, I decided I felt a little like a farmer pulling on his heavy clothes to leave the warm farmhouse and traipse through the snowy fields to the cold barn to tend to his livestock. I stepped out the side door to find a bright blue sky and a brilliant sun shining down. Mr. Sun seemed to mock me as I trudged to the garage and around the house doing my daily cold-weather “chores” as he sure didn’t provide any warmth. Amazingly, after all these gray days, or gazing at flurries or white-outs, I actually saw my shadow and now I know how good Phil feels when he sees his shadow on Groundhog Day. I took a gander at that big orb in the sky and if you looked up, not down, you could almost pretend it was a beautiful Spring or Fall Day – that is, until out of the corner of your eye you glimpsed the plumes billowing out of neighborhood chimneys or furnace PVC pipes. I scanned the nearby trees since I heard several warblers and a bird or two twittering nearby, yet I saw nary a one. Once again I cursed the advent of the rats to the neighborhood in 2008 and 2010 that caused me to remove the bird feeders and birdbaths. The temps may have moderated some, but I still felt badly that I could not scatter some bread to sustain my fine-feathered friends in this bitter cold. The bird calls continued throughout the duration of my time outside and their sweet songs were truly like a breath of Spring air plunked down in the middle of this Winter that we are all so weary of. The birdsong made me remember my pals at the Park and I wondered how they are faring in these extreme cold temps and brutal wind chill. Well, enough of looking up and dreaming of Spring because it is not coming anytime soon. The reality of this Winter, notwithstanding the tweeting birds and shining sun, is that the neighbors’ Christmas decorations are nearly covered in snow and the street is far from being bare to the concrete, but now appears to be drivable thanks to the snow plow’s visit. Just like at your house, here the snow is mounded up high and the forecast for Saturday is rain and 43 degrees so where will all that liquid go? Yikes! Every weekend it seems a different weather pattern shows up … each worse than its predecessor. Hurrah, the garbage men showed up this morning, some 48 hours tardy … well, it wasn’t as if the garbage was going to smell funky, that’s for sure. One of my garbage bags is at large, probably missing under the hardened piles of snow and it will no doubt turn up this weekend after the rain. Across the street from my house is an unoccupied rental home. Since the home’s original owners passed away and the house was sold in 2010, it has had many tenants. They stay a few months, then leave and the house is vacant once again. The heat must be set very low inside as there are some monstrous and lethal-looking icicles. I knocked off a few of my own, albeit just tiny ones, with a quick tap of the broom handle and then I dealt with the still, ice-encrusted furnace PVC pipe. The buggy started right up and so I closed the garage door, looked up to the sky and bade farewell to the Three Tenors who had entertained me from their perch in some tree. As I rounded the corner of the house, a chubby squirrel ran the length of the chain link fence as he came charging toward me in search of a friendly human with a handout. But, I had nothing to offer and shook my head “no” to reinforce that I had no treats.

I climbed into bed last night, glad to slide between and snuggle down into the warm blankets. I think my thermal windows are showing their age as there are terrible drafts the last couple of years, even when the weather is not as brutal as these past few days. I, too, am feeling my age or my blood is getting thinner as the constant cold, even within the house, seems invasive and intolerable to me. A trip to the basement or even the cellarway, which I close off to keep the kitchen warm, leaves me shivering. In the darkness, curled up beneath the covers and just before I shut my eyes, I listened to the various sounds in and around the still house. The wind was howling at 29 miles an hour according to the last forecast before I turned in. I believe it as I felt the house moving and the wind was rattling the metal rolling blinds with a vengeance. I had already heard thumps and thunks of unknown origin throughout the course of the evening and they continued after I went to bed. The wooden furniture was creaking or shifting and making occasional loud squeaky noises and after the lights were out, it was eerie, as if a ghost was wandering around in the other rooms. I listened to the washer running through its cycles since I ran another load of hot water shortly before I went to bed. I left all the taps open and dripping on each faucet and I still could hear the drip, drip, drip of the droplets hitting the stainless steel kitchen sink. It seemed the furnace barely shut off, only to rev up again, chugging and heaving as it pumped out more warm air into the house. Finally I quit analyzing the mysterious sounds and drifted off to sleep. It seemed mere minutes later the alarm started buzzing. I threw off the covers intending to run another load of water through the washer and let the hot water gush out all of the faucets to thwart any freezing issues, but as soon as I threw off the covers, sparks were everywhere with static electricity coming from the Sherpa wool blanket and following me as I shuffled over to the light switch. Sparks a ’plenty once again, and ouch … they hurt after shocking me first. I’ve tinkered and tweaked the furnace humidifier repeatedly over the last month or so. There is either water on the windows or the house is dry as a bone with no happy medium. My hands are so dry they are cracked and I have cuts on all my fingers so I can barely type. My big adventure outside this morning was preceded by finding frost on the inside of the steel door. I chipped it off with my fingernail and a paper towel, then had to deal with dislodging the ice off the outside furnace pipe where the condensation from the hot steam had frozen on the lip of the pipe. At least the car started up in the garage so I am thankful for small blessings. It seems the only salvation for dealing with such harsh weather is returning inside, shucking off your clothes and wrapping your frozen fingers around your favorite warm beverage. I saw this little saying and decided it was true and worth sharing with those, like me, who enjoy their cup of joe: Coffee is like a warm fireplace for the soul.

Everyone knows Frosty the Snowman finds it scary when the thermometer is red, but you and I wouldn’t mind if that happened right now. Frosty isn’t going to need to slip into the freezer to stay intact … not today and tomorrow anyway. Hope you get a chuckle out of this little cartoon, even if your lips are still too numb to smile. I just heard WWJ report the temps at -12 degrees and -47 wind child – these brutal temps and blustery winds are absurd, even for someone who hails from Canada. My heart goes out to the bus riders because I took the bus for over three decades. On days like these, the buses are never timely and usually alot of them have to be serviced with no replacement vehicles. The tote bag I schlepped with me daily when I rode the bus regularly included every type of emergency gear including toe and foot warmers, extra socks, hats, gloves … even a few granola bars. Many times I waited on the bus for hours or suffered through an extended bus ride due to the snow or bitter cold. Even sadder is the plight of the homeless people who are on the minds of many as well. I heard there are 19,000 homeless people in the City of Detroit with only accommodations to shelter 4,000 of them. I’m grateful to have a roof over my head and a place to call home, and in that home, the furnace is blasting at 77 degrees right now and I may raise it to 78 after hearing the latest weather forecast. Throughout this day, I’ve dashed from faucet to faucet monitoring the trickle or droplets of water and washed two loads of “hot water” and will do another before I go to bed. The incessant water droplets hitting the stainless steel sink are annoying, but if it keeps the pipes from freezing or having any water issues, I will be happy. I say vamoose to this Polar Vortex!