Prisoners Of Love
A shrink once asked me to tell him of some bit of news I’d recently read. I told him that I rarely watched the news on television or read about it any more, that if something of interest struck a friend or family member that they’d usually relay the information.
Those who have memory problems of my sort (primarily short term) get discouraged when they read, because we don’t retain much. It’s hit or miss.
I segued in my mind to an ancient Geraldo program on which he had a panel of romance writers. I remember Bertrice Small’s comment many of her readers who sent her fan mail were inmates. She referred to them as her ‘prisoners of love’.
Which got me thinking of my Thursday Thirteen and who I considered to fit that category, for whatever reasons.
I haven’t posted much lately, due to many reasons, but the 13 makes me concentrate while I have stream of consciousness. Weird, I know, but here ‘tis for this week.
Love is always a gamble. |
Thirteen Things about PRISONERS OF LOVE1. victims of abuse
2. the incarcerated and their families
3. the elderly
4. pets, especially those waiting for adoption
5. orphans
6. the homeless and infirm
7. AIDS patients and their families
8. the homebound
9. obsessive lovers
10. pragmatists
11. the fearful
12. soldiers and their families
13. writers
All of the above have affected me at one time or another, and I can think of sidebars for all of them, stories of people who fit each category on the list. A woman afraid to leave a bad marriage, because the devil she knew was preferable to the one she didn't. The damage inflicted on the families of people who commit crimes. The homebound old man who refused to leave his wife’s side to even go to the store, because he wanted to spend each moment he had left with her (they were on my Meals On Wheels route when I delivered hot meals from a hospital organization).
People so in love with their own ideals that they trap by themselves, enamored of their own words to the point that they see little else.
Then the heartbreakers – children, pets, hurt by the love they had or seeking love and not finding it, the elderly whose families discard them once they seem of no use.
I can’t help but consider that we’re all a Prisoner of Love at any given time. Or we’re Parolees of Love – depends upon which side of the bars our love resides. Most of us are either trapped in a relationship, a willing captive, or we’re seeking a love that enraptures us. Funny, how enrapt and entrapped sound so much alike, huh? I’d like to think I make healthy choices now and that when I’m ‘stuck’, it’s of my own volition.
So that’s my offering for the day. Ask yourself if you’re a Prisoner or a Parolee. If that offends, I’m sorry. If it makes you think…good. If the post helps you bust a few bars, even better. Till next time…thanks for joining me today.
~ Sunny Lyn
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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
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Updates & Unusuals
The tiramisu was fantastic! I recommend the recipe I used (see previous post) with the exception of the brandy - I'm cutting the 1/4 cup to about 1/3 of that 1/4 cup - lol. The filling was perfection. Tip: whip that whipping cream a long time - make it peak.
Janet sent me some FUNNY "Porn For Women" that I'd like to share. Figured if I didn't blog all this today that I'd forget since tomorrow is Thursday Thirteen, and I already have something in the works for that. So enjoy - see you tomorrow, hopefully.
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Sunny Approaches Tiramisu With Trepidation
I love my local supermarket. It’s one of those big city stores that has a small hometown feel. Everybody knows me, which helps. I’m the crazy lady who buys stamps or mails parcels at all hours if the Customer Service department is open (once or twice when it wasn’t, but someone just took pity on me and sold me stamps or weighed a package).
I’m the goober who got snockered on one margarita at her
favorite local Mexican restaurant (hey, it was a big drink) and had to walk off her inebriation by buzzing the produce and cereal aisles afterwards at Price Chopper. I’m the diabetic who sniffs the bakery but has only purchased one éclair during the past ten months.
Primarily, I’m the Lotto Scratch-Off Loony. Give me ten bucks and a quarter and I can play, win, lose, play, win, etc for an hour or two on just that amount (the quarter is for using to scratch, for those of you who didn’t pick up on that). I have been known to purchase at the Customer Service desk, navigate south towards the in-store bank and scratch while waiting in line, go back to Customer Service, then out to the patio where I’d smoke or just drink a Diet Coke, trot back to the CS desk (or send the daughter-in-law until she’d beg off), and this would ensue for an hour or two, depending upon how rotten or generous Lady Luck was to me. (You should watch me at the penny slots or even the quarter and dollar ones in Vegas – lol. I can shut the casinos DOWN, wear ‘em out.)
But yesterday, I was the wanna-be Italian chef who had them all looking for
mascarpone. Nobody knew what it was. It wasn’t in the meat section, as one guy thought. It wasn’t with the Mexican food section (duh – tried to tell them). It wasn’t in dairy. And we’d all overlooked it at the gourmet cheese aisle. Finally, we located it, and to my dismay the damned cheese cost six bucks for 8 ounces. ACK.
My son asked me how badly I wished to make this particular dish – told him that the desire started to make me itch about a year ago, so that did it for him. He just said I’d better leave him a bit of it.
I love
The Sweet Potato Queens’ Big-Ass Cookbook by
Jill Conner Browne. As Jill states in the preface regarding the recipes in this book,
Our experience with cuisine of the haute variety is that it’s way too much trouble to do ourselves and costs way too much to have others do for us, and when they do, it looks weird. They’re not happy just to plunk it on a plate and let you eat it in peace; it has to be visual. And if it tastes good, there’s only enough of it to piss us off.
That’s how I feel about tiramisu. After shopping for ingredients, however, I have a better understanding of why the damned thing costs so much. A forty-dollar dessert that feeds ten at best if the cook uses the ingredients suggested without scrimping or substituting. I thought
It's sponge cake or wafers soaked with coffee, how difficult can this be?Here is the recipe. I’ll let you know how it goes.
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Keeping Busy
Sorry no Thursday Thirteen from me this time. Have been spending time with family and friends. Will share some photos, though.
Haven't had the MRI yet. Thanks to those of you who have asked. I don't think it's anything serious, so no worries. Just one of those little nuisances that has to be addressed. I
shall keep up on it, though, nag the doctors until the test is given/taken, and I
shall keep you posted. I probably shouldn't have even mentioned it, because now some of you are concerned. I REALLY thought I'd be taking that test the week I mentioned it. For whatever reasons, though, the government is dragging its heels, paperwork from doctor to doctor, clinic to specialist, and since Uncle Sam owns my ass...I won't know anything for some time.
It's been so pretty outside that the dogs and I have spent a lot of time under the gazebo.
When inside, I tend to reach for the flour and eggs and take on baking bread. Don't remember last time we purchased bread - lol. Merry gave me a gift certificate for my birthday last year, and I got a bread machine. Still requires ingredients. *grin* And occasionally a recipe that has to be made by hand calls my name.
I think this shot was of a lemon pound cake in progress - lol. For some reason, I'd lost my train of thought (I think that's how it happened), and I'd spotted my cell phone nearby and snapped a photo while I backtracked to discover what it was that had captured my attention while I was baking. Memory problems are such a bitch at times. So the photo phone is always with me.
When I was in DC last month, I'd take shots of the street signs and buildings so I could reassimilate the info should I get lost. Didn't need the photos but a time or two, such as while phoning for a cab and needing the address where I was staying, but I was sure glad I had those photos.
We haven't had much use for The Stress Duckie lately, but we keep him on Lola's dash (the MUV) "just in case".
Think this little guy came with a bottle of after shave for The Kid, but it could have been a bottle of his favorite booze - I really don't remember. I just know that Duckie has come in handy to lighten up things when traffic is bad or whenever the weather turns nasty. One thump on his back and the driver or passenger miraculously feels better - ha ha.
Did I mention a week or two ago that I'd been cleaning out the garage? One of those late, late spring cleanings? This house is a bit smaller than the last one we occupied, so many things are in bins. Treasures. Okay, some of it's junque. But now and then I'll run across something that makes me go AH, glad I saved this.
An elderly friend who worked for the FBI back in the forties and fifties gave me some magazines before she moved in the nineteen-eighties from Oklahoma to Texas. One collection was of The National Geographic, and I'm partial to this one. The photo is of the May, 1906 issue, which cost 25 cents when it hit the news stands, and it had the most updated info for the last major earthquake. San Francisco, the month prior.
Something really wild was reading the November, 1907 issue (think that was the one). It had the most recent really bad earthquake, and it called this one (Vesuvius in Italy) the worst world's earthquake ever. Seems there had been at least a half-dozen within the last two years. Here's a link if you want to rekindle your knowledge of the place:
http://www.letus.northwestern.edu/projects/esp/top10/vesuviuspage/vesuvius.html
Had dinner with The Kids tonight at a Chinese restaurant we haven't tried before - good food and company. Afterwards, caught a shot of the sky at dusk and of the bank and fountain across the street.
Later, back at the house, Dear Daughter In Law French-braided our hair - she's getting pretty good. (First is her - I'm the last photo of braids.)
See ya next time...
Sunny Lyn
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13 Things I'm Doing This Summer
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Okay, so I’m a day early. Gotta get a jump on things around here. I’ve been so freakin’ busy this summer that I thought I’d blog about the goodies that have kept me busy.
1. Baking Bread – Challah, to be precise. I’m not even Jewish, and it’s hardly the season/holiday to bake this particular bread, but I’ve a fondness for it. There’s something about kneeding dough, digging in up to my elbows, that gives me a buzz. Braiding it is even fun.
2. Yard Work – Again, maybe it’s getting my hands dirty, digging in up to my elbows, to be repetitive, that charges my spirit. All I know is that I haven’t had a yard like this in so long, the time or the ability to grow things, so I’m relishing the journey and enjoying the fruits of my labor.
3. Plotting New Books – Didn’t say I’d done any actual writing, just plotting, but this is a good season for me as far as sowing seeds, getting new things started. I want to do a dragon book, another mainstream (God knows why – they’re not selling, and they’re often my best works), a couple more m/m romances, and even my own cookbook (#1 Son’s idea).
4. Grooming My Pets – Lord knows they need it. They have all this fur. They’ve been to the vet, have had their shots, their heartworm meds, their flea and tick meds, but still I see them doing the dig and scratch thing now and then. My next project with them is clipping them myself. Gotta get the clippers first. I’ve started doing their dental cleaning as well as their baths, and we’ve all become accustomed to it – ha ha. They sometimes resist the dental procedure, but I’m looking forward to the day that they walk up to me and just smile when they see that toothbrush.
5. Maintaining My Health – Have had the teeth cleaned, have said ‘ah’ at both ends, did the mammogram squish, and am prepping for a colonoscopy and another MRI, this one on a lump on my throat. Hopefully, it’s just a goiter, but the thyroid tests came back okay, so who knows? Wish me luck.
6. Genealogy – I love history, so this one’s a no-brainer. It’s fun, informative, even relaxing.
7. Grilling – ‘Nuff said, huh? I mean, it’s SUMMER, and there are all these kewl recipes, from shrimp and veggie kabobs to burgers, hot dogs, barbecued chicken, and steaks.
8. Late Spring Cleaning – Maybe it’s another nesting phase, but I can’t stand clutter these days. The general rule with The Kid when he was growing up was If it’s not on your butt, put it up. Now it seems I’m going through this with daughter-in-law-to-be – ha ha. She got what she refers to as a Nasty-Gram yesterday, with a caution that she’d prefer the note than a lecture. Yeah, it’s a democracy here, but if my jobs entail cleaning and laundry, somebody had better not make it harder than it already is on me.
9. Spending Time With Family – There are the evening meals, the after dinner movies, an occasional meal outside the home or a shopping trip (usually just for groceries and supplies, but hey…I’ll take what I can get). I love spending time with The Kids. Then…there are those moments like when they bought me Father’s Day presents and we all helped put together a fire bowl and gazebo.
10. Spending Alone Time – I’ve always enjoyed my own company. Weird, I know, and maybe a bit narcissistic, but that’s just the way it is. I enjoy writing with a good dog or two at me feet. I like the self-pampering. I’m getting pretty good at the pedicures and manicures when I take the time. DIL2B has hooked me on facial masks and moisturizing. *sigh* I haven’t been a girly-girl since I was in my teens, so this is…different.
11. Reading Magazines – Everything from Pregnancy & Newborn (no, not ME – 3 guesses who buys these) to Better Homes & Garden to anything on planting, building decks, buying fashion, and learning how to make wine.
12. Examining My Personal Space – I desperately need a new bed with good box springs and mattress, but I’ll settle for just elbow room at this point. Better bookshelves. More plants. An aquarium? Now that’s a thought. Very relaxing.
13. Counting My Blessings – The easiest one of all, and I do this as frequently as possible. All I have to do is look around me to see how blessed I am. Hope you can do the same.
Till next time… |
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
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My 1st Thirteen
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Thirteen Things about Native Americans
13 Types of Native American Within My Family
"I have Indian Blood in me. I have just enough white blood for you to question my honesty!"
Will Rogers aka "The Cherokee Kid"
I was the fifth living generation on one side when I was born. Counting the greats and the great-greats, I had 12 grandparents and innumerable aunts, uncles, and cousins, so I thought that for my first 13 I’d work with family to make up my list.
1. Casino Indian – A favorite aunt has always lived with flash, cash, sass, and reckless abandonment. Depending upon how you view her, whether it’s her ten to twelve marriages (even WE aren’t sure on this one) or her devilish desire to take risks, this can be good or bad.
2. Garth Brooks Indian – A close cousin to the Casino Indian, this one is Casino with a kick. Bright, bold shirts, pointy-toed footwear, beaded headband on the cowboy hats, the works.
3. Wal-Mart Indian – My mother fits this one. If it’s economical, thrifty, offers a variety, and doesn’t demand a lot of fuss, she’s all about it.
4. Dustbowl Indian – One sect of our family branched out during the depression, headed West, and lived nomadically until they settled in Bakersfield.
5. Lost Indian – Another aunt, not a favorite, married one of these. Sam was a mixture of Native American, Mexican, and something else we haven’t determined. There’s an Indian in there somewhere—we’re just not sure where or what kind.
6. Grass Roots Indian – My great-grandmother. The woman churned her own butter, grew her own vegetables, had Black Angus cattle, and farmed something like four-hundred acres (well, her husband handled most of the farming and cattle-raising). This is the grandmother who taught me what little of the language I learned back then.
7. Welfare Indian – Whether they’re on welfare or not, this is where my mind pigeon-holds this family. I’ve referred to them as Drinker of Long Necks, his wife Stomping Heifer, and their kids Two Tokes, Trouble, and Jailbait.
8. Activist NA – This woman is an in-your-face activist who knows more about civil liberties within the tribes than the head of the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Don’t call her Indian – call her Native American. She’s the Indian who protests football, baseball, basketball teams calling themselves The Redskins or any variation thereof. If you’re already forming a prejudice, however, please understand that Wounded Knee impacted her heavily and that everything is black or white (well, mainly red) with this woman.
9. Artistic NA – There are actually several of these in my family. One even showed his work in the Smithsonian. Some paint, some carve, others are into pottery and weaving, but the majority of my family is creative, as are many friends. Just don’t look to me for any of that talent.
10. Archival NA – Okay, I’ll cop to this one. Nerd here has always been fascinated by stories, whether my family’s or anyone else’s. I’ve spent many hours digging through dusty library archives searching for one piece of evidence to complete an ancestral puzzle. While researching, though, I’ve found other literary forms depicting Indians that surprised me. This, for instance. Bet you weren’t expecting that, were you? – lol – Kinda shocked me as well. Who knew?
11. Hooked On Hollywood Indians – Celebrities charm us anyway, but when you’re a minority who rubs elbows with one, I guess it just changes you somehow. Who knows? But there is a Native American directory of actors, in case there are closet Hollywood Indians out there. This guy has somehow become dear to at least one elderly relative. They’ve corresponded, he’s sent her photos, that sort of thing. Oh, and my son broke his son’s leg in football back around 1990, if that gives me any claim to fame with him. *snort* I remember The Kid coming home, pale, worried. For a youngster, he’d already developed some strange notions, said he wondered if he’d have the Red Earth Mafia after his ass, told me it was an accident, but still…the boy’s father WAS the baddest-ass Indian in Hollywood at the time, so…should he worry? I told him that he was buying into reel world instead of real, but he was still shaken for a while.
12. Literary Indian – You already know that I write, so this is almost redundant – sorry. I just had to say that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting some interesting Indian writers along the way. One was Grace Thorpe, who as far as I know never had a claim to fame of any sort as a writer, but she was working on a biography of her father last time I saw her. She died, alas, without accomplishing this, but her sister has a book about him. Grace brought her dad’s medals once and let my little boy touch them as she told him stories about Jim.
13. Diabetic Indians – The list wouldn’t be complete without this one. Diabetes is the curse, the bane of Native Americans. The figures are staggering, and I can only think of one woman in my own family who didn’t develop this disease. Diabetes affects millions of people all over the world, and many in my family have either lost their lives to it or have gone blind.
Not to end this on a depressing note, I just couldn’t in good conscience neglect listing that last one.
Thanks for visiting today and for reading my first Thursday 13 list.
Links to other Thursday Thirteens!1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)
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Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
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Happy Independence Day
I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG,
OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
AND TO THE REPUBLIC, FOR WHICH IT STANDS,
ONE NATION UNDER GOD,
INDIVISIBLE, WITH LIBERTY
AND JUSTICE FOR ALL!
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Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho...
First, I don't iron. Not well, anyway, not with enthusiasm, and not unless I can help it. My mother, God bless her, loves to iron, but I hate it. My mom and her mom were also great seamstresses and used to keeping a hot iron and ironing board handy as they did their thang.
#1 Son bought some shirts on sale a few weeks ago - catalogue, his size, with the Doesn't Need Ironing lie blazened throughout the ad. Well, so much for that shit.
Clearly, these shirts beg to have wrinkles smoothed, but this does nothing for my disposition. I'd rather be cooking, gardening, tweezing my twat, ANYTHING but ironing.
Out of curiosity, I went to this link
http://www.enchantedlearning.com/inventors/indexi.shtml to ask: WHO invented the frickin' iron?
IRON, ELECTRIC - The electric iron was invented in 1882 by Henry W. Seeley, a New York inventor. Seeley patented his "electric flatiron" on June 6, 1882 (patent no. 259,054). His iron weighed almost 15 pounds and took a long time to warm up.
Now if I were a cartoonist, this line alone would give me nightmares: Other electric irons had also been invented, including one from France (1882), but it used a carbon arc to heat the iron, a method which was dangerous. Can you IMAGINE?????
One thing I have learned is that ironing a shirt in the wee hours of the morning is one thing. Having to iron one that closely resembles the ironing board cover is another. There wasn't enough coffee in the house to keep me alert enough to get past this without bleary eyes and a sour disposition.
Where are the Mojitos when you need 'em? Maybe I can mix up one of these later.
3 fresh
mint sprigs
2 tsp
sugar3 tbsp fresh
lime juice1 1/2 oz
light rumclub sodaIn a tall thin glass, crush part of the mint with a fork to coat the inside. Add the sugar and lime juice and stir thoroughly. Top with ice. Add rum and mix. Top off with *chilled* club soda (or seltzer). Add a lime slice and the remaining mint, and serve.
My friend Mike makes the best mojito, and he even has special glassware, but we're a few hundred miles away right now, so I'll have to let memories of sipping drinks on his front porch serve me and just 'make do'.
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A shrink once asked me to tell him of some bit of news I’d recently read. I told him that I rarely watched the news on television or read about it any more, that if something of interest struck a friend or family member that they’d usually relay the information.
4 Comments:
I believe I'm "out on parole" at this time - which is fine by me. Preferable to being a "prisoner of love."
I have no clue why that particular topic was on my mind. Brain fart?
I'm not sure where I stand .... but your post definitly made me think.
My DH has short term memory issues too...it affects his test taking abilities.
He never knew he had it until we had him tested and diagnosed.
It was his current employment that pushed the issue and brought the problem to the fore.
Since then, he's had time for retrospeciton and found that it explains so much about how he did in school and how things were in his past. It helped himself know himself better.
So, I can empathize with the challenges you face because if it.
Kudos for being the successful person you are.
HUGS
I guess I'm a parolee of love. But your post sure did make me think!
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