Posted tagged ‘Netflix’

“Soup is cozy.”

October 24, 2017

Last night I just couldn’t fall asleep. I tried to watch television, but that didn’t work. On Netflix I saw the start of several movies but couldn’t get interested in any of them. I then watched most of my DVR’d programs and got the number winnowed to two, both Dirk Gently’s. To watch that program I need a different mood. At 3:00 I turned off the light and tried to sleep. At 3:30 I turned the light back on. Finally, at 4:30 or so I fell asleep. Television is definitely a wasteland late at night but not enough to lull me to sleep.

Today is dark and windy, but surprisingly warm. It will rain later tonight. We could get inches of rain. My mother would call it a deluge.

Unlike Mother Hubbard, my cupboard is full. Peapod came yesterday.

My coffee maker loses water all over the counter. My washing machine won’t spin. I had to put towels on the line in the cellar. They were heavy with water. I hand wrung them, but they were still soaked. The other clothes went into the dryer. I hate when stuff starts to fall apart. I have ordered another coffee pot and will call an appliance man with hopes the washer can be fixed. Both are essential.

We live in the toss it and buy another age. Stuff is not build to last anymore. It is often cheaper to replace than repair.

My mother always made pea soup after we’d had a bone- in ham for dinner. The soup was thick and green. It was my father’s favorite, but because I liked it too, my mother would save some in jars and freeze it for my next visit. I reciprocated and made chicken soup. I always brought my mother some. She loved my chicken soup.

My mother used to come down to visit often. We shopped, went out to dinner and sometimes out to lunch as well. At night we’d play Big Boggle, her favorite game. We played countless times. She used to fill her trunk with shopping bags. The joke was she’d only bring in a couple when my father was home. He always remarked about little she’d bought. When he went to work, she’d empty the rest of her trunk.

It has started to rain. I heard it dripping from the eaves onto the deck. The wind is  stronger, and the biggest branches on the oak trees are swaying. I was going out as I do have one errand, but now I’m staying home, cozy and dry.

“Nothing in life… Even a few broken bones, is without its reward”

October 9, 2017

The rain started last and has continued intermittently all morning; of course, it started raining when I brought Gracie outside. Isn’t that always the way? The drops were big, and they made a thud sound when they fell on leaves. We both got a little wet.

Last night the arms of Morpheus eluded me. I was awake until almost four. I alternated between reading my new book and watching Netflix where I binged on a documentary about emergency rooms. Each episode highlighted three or four patients. The one that grossed me out was about the guy whose foot had gangrene. It had to be amputated. I watched every episode.

Watching emergency had me thinking about my own medical history. When I was four, I broke my wrist. I was so proud of my cast I showed it off for the camera in a couple of pictures. I have also broken my cheekbone and my shoulder, and I chipped and broke teeth and lost a bit of my lip on one memorable fall down the stairs, which I don’t even remember. My ankle was severely sprained when I fell off the front step after I stepped on an out of place welcome mat, one of the great ironies. That is the entire litany of my injuries which really isn’t too long a list considering how many times I have fallen. I guess I’ve become an expert at mitigating the damage. I’m so proud!

Today I have a list of stuff to do before my guests come tomorrow, but I have to work around the Sox game which may be at one if it isn’t raining in Boston at game time. I figure between innings I can get hurry and some stuff done.

I love rainy days. The darkness in the house is warming in a strange way. I leave candle lights on in the windows and a night light in the bathroom. In this room, the computer is the only light. Gracie is sleeping beside me. She’s snoring. It sounds loud in the quiet house. Yesterday the doors and a couple of windows were open, but today the house is tightly shut to keep the moisture and the cool air at bay. I have to go out later to get a few groceries, and I think it might just be sweatshirt weather.

“I love California; I practically grew up in Phoenix.”

May 23, 2017

The lateness of the hour is due to a visit to the vets for Miss Gracie. She is still having night problems, but the main reason was blood on the puppy pad. The good news was also the bad news. Gracie had blood tests and a urine test. The vet said she hadn’t ever seen an old boxer this healthy. There was no infection, no kidney issues, no diabetes and no to everything else. The vet said we might assume a urine infection because Gracie drinks so much water that finding an infection is difficult. Gracie now has more pills to take.

Last night it poured. I could hear the rain pounding the roof as I fell asleep. It had rained on and off all day, but it wasn’t such a heavy rain as I didn’t get all that wet walking Gracie to the backyard. Today the sun was out for about a half hour before the day got cloudy, damp and cold. The sun is supposed to return, but I am a doubter.

I’m thinking today is a nap day. I slept fitfully last night so I’m tired. Besides, the cold and damp make it an afghan day, a day to get cozy, warm and comfy. Gracie already is.

A grilled cheese sandwich is on tonight’s menu. If I had tomato soup, that would be too. I’m trying out a new kitchen helper, a sleeve of sorts which cooks grilled cheese in the toaster. I’m a bit skeptical.

I find myself addicted to MSNBC and Netflix. I just finished the documentary series of The Keepers and a remake of Anne of Green Gables called Anne with an E on Netflix. The Keepers was a one day binge. Yesterday on MSNBC, I was surprised to learn from Mr. Trump that Israel is not in the Middle East. All this time I was thinking it was. Mr. Trump also taught me to curtsy if given a large gold chain by Saudi royalty. Now it is on to Rome and my next lesson whatever it might be.

“My wife has to be the worst cook. I don’t believe meatloaf should glow in the dark.”

January 28, 2017

Winter is back, and my heat is blasting to keep the cold at bay. I am wearing my winter around the house clothes: flannel pants, a sweatshirt and cozy slippers. Much to my chagrin, I have to leave the comforts of home to do errands because I didn’t do them yesterday. I just didn’t have the ambition; instead, I watched the last season of Star Trek Voyager. It is sort of sad to know there no more episodes for me to watch. I’ll just have to find another Netflix diversion to keep me away from TV news.

For get-togethers, my mother used to make a couple of dips. We’d have onion dip, the king of dips, and shrimp dip. The onion dip hasn’t changed in millennia: sour cream and dry onion soup mix, Lipton soup mix. For the shrimp dip, my mother would buy the small shrimp already cooked and floating in cocktail sauce. It came in small fluted glasses. Her cupboard had several of those small glasses, evidence of the popularity of that dip. She’d put the shrimp and sauce and some cream cheese in her blender, no food processor back then, and whip. That was it. Party on!

We were never a green salad family. For cook-outs, never called barbecues, my mother always made potato salad, and if we begged enough, Italian pepper and egg salad, my favorite. It was my aunt’s recipe: peppers, onions and eggs and a bit of tomato sauce. My aunt had married an Italian, and she learned the recipe from her mother-in-law. I am so glad she did. I still love pepper and egg salad.

My mother made the best meatloaf. My favorite was when she frosted the meatloaf with mashed potatoes and baked it a bit in the oven so the potatoes sort of looked like meringue. My meatloaves are always different tasting. They depend on what I have in the fridge. I’ve used salsa a few times, and it added a great flavor. What’s great about meatloaf is the leftover makes a fantastic sandwich.

The sky is grim, but I have to go out anyway. I can’t remain a sloth. Gracie will expect to eat tomorrow.

“The Harvard Law states: Under controlled conditions of light, temperature, humidity, and nutrition, the organism will do as it damn well pleases.”

July 22, 2016

Last night I went to bed early, around 10:30, but couldn’t fall asleep so I decided to check out Netflix as my iPad is beside my bed. That was a huge mistake. I started watching Stranger Things and was hooked. It was close to 4 o’clock before I put down my iPad and went to sleep. Episodes remain, and I’m thinking I’ll watch them this afternoon. I won’t do that late night binging again. Okay, I admit I probably will.

As of late yesterday afternoon, the house was closed again, and the air conditioner became a necessity. All of a sudden it was very humid, and the breeze did nothing to cool the day. Poor Gracie was panting, a sure sign the house was too warm. Today is also hot and somewhat humid. Boston is officially in the middle of a heat wave. We are not though heat wave or no heat wave it is still a really hot day.

I don’t remember when the weather started to bother me enough I complained. When I was a kid, the weather never mattered. Summer was for being outside as long as I could be. I always dreaded my mother yelling out the back door for us to come inside the house. Snow was always fun. It was for sledding, making snowmen and building forts. Sometimes snow even gave us a free day from school. Where I lived in Ghana was the hottest part of the country. It was savannah grassland with few trees. I could look across the fields to the horizon. Nothing stood in the way. I was hot in the 100 plus degree heat, but I found ways to be cool. At night I’d take my cold shower and not dry off. The air cooled and dried me and I easily fell asleep. After every snow storm, I used to shovel my walk and driveway. Now I pay someone and wait patiently inside until he comes. My house has central air conditioning. I used to have a fan I carted from den to bedroom at night, and I was cooled enough to sleep. Maybe this intolerance is because I am getting older or maybe it is because I no longer want to abide too hot or too cold. I aim for comfortable.

Tomorrow is our first deck movie night. I have several from which my friends can choose including Charade, The original Thomas Crown Affair, Cabaret,  the Equalizer, Three Days of the Condor and Beginning of the End, our awful science fiction B movie for the summer, a movie where giant grasshoppers wreak devastation wherever they go. I’m serving grilled sausages and sauteed peppers and onions and fresh bread for sandwiches. I’m making a couple of appetizers and a new drink, a blue drink. I have my shopping list ready.

Gracie is sleeping and is snoring. I envy her the nap, not the snoring.