Posted tagged ‘anise cookies’

“Everything I buy is vintage and smells funny. Maybe that’s why I don’t have a boyfriend.”

December 1, 2016

Today is more than enough to make up for all that rain. Mother Nature is back in my good graces. The day is warm. I went to get the papers in a short sleeve shirt and wasn’t even cold. The sun is brilliant and perfectly framed by the blue sky. A little breeze has the brown leaves dancing at the end of their branches. I made a list of places to go today so I can enjoy the day.

The dog door is complete. Yesterday I ran into my friend and explained my problem with the plastic part of the dog door. His dog also has one so I figured he might have a solution. Washers! That was it, all I needed. I went to the hardware store and gave the man one of the small screws, asked for some with larger heads and some washers. He brought me both for the grand total of 98 cents. Two of the holes used the larger headed screws while the other holes needed the washers. Gracie has been in and out that door all morning.

It rained again yesterday, but I still went to do errands. Gracie needed dog food. That was enough incentive to get me out into the rain, but I did treat myself and bought lunch and some anise cookies. Life is good.

This week I will start decorating my house for Christmas. One side of my cellar is filled with bins of decorations. I have a whole collection of plastic lighted figures, mostly Santa Clauses. On the back wall are bins I haven’t opened in a few years. I’m hoping I can make my way back there to see what’s in those bins. I like surprises. Many of my decorations, like the Santas, are vintage and some are mighty ugly, but I don’t care. I think everything Christmas has an intrinsic beauty, even the ceramic angels, Santa mugs and really gross elves with scary faces. I was thrilled last Christmas to find out my nephew collects those vintage plastic lighted figures. He got a snowman as a gift last year. I didn’t know anyone else shared my taste.

That load of washing is still in front of the cellar door. Maybe I’ll get to it tomorrow. But then again, maybe not.

“Everyone knows that if you eat a cookie, and the cookie next to it is broken, you’re required to eat that broken cookie as well to keep the package looking clean.”

September 10, 2016

The air conditioner is off for the meanwhile. The sun disappeared a bit earlier and was replaced by clouds then it reappeared. I suspect that will happen all day. The air is damp. The weatherman said there is a possibility of rain. I’m not complaining as we need rain, but it would dampen movie night.

I used to wonder why pistachio nuts were red. I remember my stained fingers and torn fingernails after opening them, but I thought those were a small price to pay. Now there are no red pistachios, only ones with natural shells. I know most of our pistachios used to come from Iran until the embargo. Come to find out, they were dyed red to disguise any shell imperfections from the harvesting. Now they come from California and have no imperfections, no blemishes on the shells. I find them a bit boring, still tasty and still tearing my fingernails but boring. I know I can buy them already shelled but that seems like cheating.

I was too impatient adding Nestle’s Quick to my milk. I stirred but never enough. On the bottom of my glass was always a layer of chocolate sludge. I used to eat that with a spoon. Once my mother bought Strawberry Quick. I liked the pink color, but I wasn’t a big fan of the strawberry. I don’t think she ever bought it again.

I don’t drink milk anymore except for the leftover milk from my cereal which tastes like the cereal. I think it was in Ghana where I lost my taste for milk as I never had any. Ghanaians don’t drink milk even though they have cows. It never occurred to me to have a villager sell me the milk.

I always liked Fig Newtons. Now I find them a bit dry. I buy fresh figs instead. Oreos are the only off the shelf cookies I buy. Mostly I get cookies from the bakery. Anise cookies are my favorite, but the bakery doesn’t always have them so I have to be content with chocolate chip.

My trip stuff list is getting bigger. I added Oreos this morning. When my parents and I traveled together, my mother always brought snacks. Some were the packages of crackers and cheese. My favorite was the peanut butter crackers, not the orange ones, the brown ones. My mother never had to bring any snacks home.

This is the quietest day. I think the thick air diffuses sound so it disappears. Gracie isn’t even snoring. I wonder if all the kids are wearing gags.

 

“School bells are ringing loud and clear; vacation’s over, school is here.”

September 6, 2016

I got home around 1:30, let Gracie out, fed her and tried to take a nap. I was too restless so I came downstairs, ate a few anise cookies, read my e-mail and here I am.

The sun is out. The storm was a bust. Now I have to put my deck back together. The furniture and the deck are covered with leaves. The table has about an inch of rain on it. Pine tree branches have fallen in the backyard. They fall easily, even in an every day wind.

The house was stuffy when I got home even with the windows open so I put on the air conditioner. It is now much more comfortable. Gracie has stopped panting, Fern is lying beside me and Maddie is on the same chair as always.

The kids were standing on the corners of my street today. They were waiting for the bus. A couple of mothers were waiting with them. I don’t remember any buses when I was a little kid. I didn’t need one as my walk wasn’t all that long, but some kids walked a couple of miles or even more. No cars were lined up dropping kids off in the morning or picking them up in the afternoon. One of my neighbors was a widow. She was the only mother with a car. When it rained, she always drove or picked up her daughter. I was jealous, especially on rainy days.

I never see kids walking to school anymore. They either take the bus or are driven. Mothers are waiting at the bus stop to see their kids off or to welcome them home. In the winter or when it rains the mothers wait in cars. That brings to mind the traditional beginning of the school year exaggeration passed from one generation to another. I walked to school in three feet of snow, during tropical storms and on the coldest of days when we didn’t dare stop for fear of freezing to the spot.

“Candy is childhood, the best and bright moments you wish could have lasted forever.”

July 17, 2016

It’s a later than usual start for me as I was on the phone with my sister. We talk every Sunday. Today we ended up chatting for two hours. For those of you thinking that in no way could you chat for two hours, believe me, the time goes quickly. We never ran out of things to talk about. We never do.

This morning, I tried to live for a bit without the air conditioning. I turned it off, opened the windows and the doors. I lasted an hour and a half.

There is a small breeze, but it is still hot and humid. When I let Gracie out the last time, I followed her to the deck. As soon as I walked outside, I was hit by the heat blast and stifled by the humidity. The day looked far better out the window. I figure I was taken in by that breeze ruffling the leaves.

My front garden has a few but is mostly in between flowers. Many of those flowers have so many buds I am anxious to see them bloom. The clematis has spread to three fence pieces and is filled with buds. Other flowers whose names I don’t know are tall and also filled with buds close to opening. In a short time, my garden will be glorious.

I ordered some Mexican hat jellies thinking they’d make good movie treats. I haven’t seen that candy in a while. The picture had a yellow, red, green and black hat. When I mentioned the candies to my sister, she said she liked the black ones. I do too. I also love Chuckles black jellies. Being my favorite flavor, I save them for last. Black jelly beans are also a favorite of mine. I was thrilled when they started selling only the black ones in a package. Anise cookies are my favorites. My uncle used to make the best-tasting anise cookies every Christmas. He said the secret was using anise oil, not anise flavoring. I actually hate black licorice. I like the red licorice but think the black tastes awful. My sister, strangely enough, has the same weird taste. She told me her son, Ryan, also hated black licorice but loves all the same black candy we do. She thinks it’s a strange gene the three of us have.

The only entry on my dance card this week is a follow-up appointment for Fern at the vets.   I guess I’m still in my solitary confinement.