Torta Pasqualina vs. Ham

This year instead of making the traditional ham for Easter, I'm making Torta Pasqualina. Literally translated, it means Easter Pie. Apparently it's an Italian tradition from the Ligurian region. So far it's been a pain. The ingredients include over two pounds of chard, a pound of ricotta cheese, a quarter pound of grated parmesan cheese, one small onion, some fresh marjoram, salt, pepper and 13 eggs.

I thought it would be fun for Mark and I to make it together - you just know something with 13 eggs in it has to be a bit fussy (suitably complex to make it a two-person job) - but he felt a compelling urge to fine tune our computers this afternoon so I was on my own with it. Not a recipe I care to repeat anytime soon. The kitchen was a complete mess!

But it's out of the oven now and I think it's almost ready to eat. The top crusts of the pie sort of drooped off the edges and fell into the bottom of the oven, making just a bit of a mess. (Thank goodness the oven is self-cleaning.) This meal will kick-off a series of Italian meals. I'm using a cookbook that we bought last October while we were in Italy.

Normally when I choose a cookbook, I look for a soup, a vegetarian dish, a beef dish, a chicken dish, a pork dish, a seafood dish, and maybe a side dish. Just let me say that the recipes selected for the coming seven to ten days do not meet this criteria. There is not one chicken recipe in the entire cookbook. No. Not even one. I know they have chickens in Italy, but you wouldn't know it from this cookbook. Nor will we be having pork this week. All of the pork recipes called for things like feet and tongues. I just don't think so. There also won't be any seafood this week. I have no idea where to get a cuttelfish or a dogfish. Aside from that, I'm not convinced that those are fish I really want to eat.

We will be feasting on meat lasagne, veal cutlets, spaghetti with pesto, pasta with eggplant, pasta with mushrooms and truffles, and a chick pea soup. Can't wait! But now to go try that Torta Pasqualina...

Antibiotics, Steroids, and Mount Olympus

I've felt awful all week long. After thinking that I was successfully fighting off a cold for two days, I finally conceded last Monday that I might be losing the battle. By Tuesday I was down. I've essentially done little or nothing all week. My days have consisted of shifting from the sofa, to the recliner, to the loveseat. My nights have consisted of being too hot, too cold, and being unable to breathe properly. I've not put on any make-up since Sunday. I've not done any work that wasn't essential. I answer calls, read books and play Words with Friends.

I've enjoyed a few bursts of "I feel better" only to find that after I've been up for 15 minutes, I think I'm going to drop from sheer exhaustion. I'd hoped to be feeling better this morning. But I wasn't. In fact I think I felt worse. My throat was probably sore from breathing through my mouth all night, since my nose wasn't functioning properly. And it's getting boring. There is work I need to do - inside and out! Mark has been good about cooking and tidying up the kitchen, but I can't turn him loose in QuickBooks or on BillPay. And for unspecified reasons, I'd really rather do the laundry myself.

So today I decided to seek medical assistance. I called our family doctor and asked if they could call in some antibiotics. The nurse said she'd let me know. When I didn't hear back from her within 10 minutes (remember, I'm desperate to feel better) I phoned a doctor who's only 5 minutes away and they could see me in 30 minutes.

I went in to the local doctor's office, filled out the forms, outlined all the medications I take (no I don't know how many milligrams it is), let them weigh me, take my temperature, pulse, and blood pressure, listen to me breathe and peer into my ears, nose and throat. And what was the diagnosis? Antibiotics!! Who could have guessed!!

After she faxed it in by computer, I asked if it wouldn't be a good idea to jump start it with an injection. Then she asked me if I wanted a shot of antibiotic or steroids.

"I want whatever will make me feel better fastest."

Steroids it is! I hadn't actually thought about this type of use of steroids in ages. But when she mentioned it, my mind went back 30 odd years to a week when I'd been feeling awful. One of my best friends was moving from Ohio to Michigan and I felt that it was important that I not miss the going away party. I worked in Vermilion, and there was a Greek doctor there - I wish I could remember his name. But I went to his office and told him how I couldn't miss my friend's party. He listened politely and then he told me a story about a field trip to Mount Olympus. (The point of that story is not any clearer today than it was back then.) But I listened politely and then he gave me a shot of steroids.

Talk about feeling better! Wow!! I believe I was high as a kite for three days. I can't remember spending so much time laughing, before or since. It was a weekend of unbridled hilarity.

So, when I got the steroid shot today, I was a bit hopeful. But all it did was sting and then make me incredibly sleepy. But now that I'm awake, I do feel a good bit better. But I'm still hopeful that the laughter might be a delayed reaction.

But just so you know, I'm well situated for antibiotics now. When I got to the pharmacy window, they informed me that two doctors had phoned in prescriptions for antibiotics for me. I assured them that I would not take them together. The Z Pak has an expiration date of October 2015. I bet I use it before then.

Eureka!

I'm not really sure how to describe Eureka Springs. In the northwest corner of Arkansas, it's not as big as Hot Springs and unlike Hot Springs, the springs are not hot. In the Ozarks, it's a favorite spot with bikers. It has an old, haunted hotel, The Crescent, and plenty of old Victorian houses and hotels that have been turned into B&Bs. There are also several old downtown hotels that have been renovated and offer an excellent value for people who like to be in the heart of things.

There is no shortage of places to eat and by Dallas standards, most of them are bargains. The place that supposedly serves the "best burger" is Dehli on the Deck, an Indian restaurant that only has curry on the buffet (and only one curry on the buffet, at that)! I find it somewhat amusing (and disturbing) that I can't order a curry in an Indian restaurant. I also find the notion of an Indian restaurant serving beef completely wrong, although I do accept that not all Indians are Hindu and for Muslims and Christians, beef is perfectly acceptable. But an Indian restaurant that serves any hamburger, much less the best hamburger, is a source of amusement for me. (And no, I didn't try it.)

There are more places for live music than you can shake a stick at - even at lunch time. We enjoyed live music during our lunches at the Crescent Hotel and the Basin Park Hotel. There were bands in all of the night spots, most of them exceptionally good.

The place is full of artists and galleries - and not many bargains. But if it's a piece you love, price is a secondary consideration. Eureka Springs seems to have more than its share of refugees from the 60s. Hippies are alive and well there. You'll be able to spot them. Some of them you can find by sense of smell - they're the ones burning incense in their shops.

But it's a great little weekend getaway. Very different from our usual San Antonio, but equally enjoyable!

The Things We Left Behind

Just so everyone knows, I'm not the only one who's forgetful. Mark left the charger for his new Sony camera at the Peabody House in Eureka Springs. I've phoned and they're looking for it now. In the meantime, he'll have to stop in at Best Buy and purchase another one.  We'll chalk that one up to the fact that we left before 7:00 AM yesterday in order to get back in time for him to do an inspection for someone whose option period expires today and he had to have Mark - no one else would do. (God bless him! We love loyal clients.) We can probably attribute part of that forgetfulness to the fact that Mark had something plugged into every outlet there - including the ones that were behind chairs and under tables. They're easy to miss and I'm not fully functional at that time of day anyway.

But when we were in England there were a few things that didn't come home with us.

1. Mark's favorite sweater. He thinks he left it at the Lord Lister Hotel, but they haven't responded with any information. Fortunately, he has another one that is very similar - same colors, slightly different style.
   
   
2. A jar of jam like Mark's mom used to make. I'm not sure what happened to it. I distinctly remember packing it into the carry-on bag. How it failed to get here is beyond my comprehension. (Mark thinks it was left at the cottage.) Unfortunately it's not a type of jam that's readily available in the US. (I think it was Pear/Ginger.)
   
   
3. My black ear muffs. These were my favorite fur muffs. I bought them in Chicago. I suspect they fell out of the side pocket of the car at a service plaza on the way from the cottage back to Heathrow. I had them for the entire trip, but when I went to remove them from the rental car before taking it back, they weren't there. So technically, the ear muffs weren't forgotten - they were lost. (Although Mark thinks they were left in the cottage, too.)

So I hope whoever has come into possession of these items enjoys them. In the meantime, I've purchased a book, Power Foods for the Brain to help me keep track of our stuff.

What Was I Saying???

We've all done it - walked into a room and forgotten why. It can be amusing.

"Honey Bun, do you know why I'm in the kitchen?"
"Yes, you were going to get something to drink."
"Oh, yeah."

But it started happening to me with increasing regularity. The other thing that started happening was what I'll call "losing my words". I would be in mid sentence when I just stopped talking because the next word didn't come out and I couldn't think of it. It was becoming a daily occurrence, in fact sometimes it happened more than once a day. Simple words, easy words - things I know and have known for years.

This is not amusing. It is worrisome. Am I having early signs of Alzheimer's or dementia? It's not common in my family, but I suppose I could be first. What is going on?

Then last Saturday we went to my granddaughter's swim meet. After the drive to Oklahoma City, Mark's back hurt so badly that he couldn't survive sitting on bleachers so he went back to the kids' house to rest. (It's amazing the lengths God will go to in order to deliver a message!) While resting, Mark watched a program about memory. I'm not sure whether it was on PBS or CNN - but that's not important. What is important is what he learned. It seems that 10% of people who take statin drugs (prescribed for high cholesterol) are affected in this way.

Last summer I asked my doctor to switch me from Simvastatin (which I had taken without incident since 2006) to Pravastatin. The reason for the switch was that I could buy a three month supply of Pravastatin at WalMart for $10 and the Simvastatin costs three times as much. Why not pay less if they do the same job? My doctor was more than happy to make the switch. He told me that recent studies showed Pravastatin to be a bit better than Simvastatin. It made me feel good about taking the cheaper drug.

But based on what Mark told me about that program, I was convinced that my body was reacting to the Pravastatin. Last Friday was the last time I took it and I'm happy to say that I haven't "lost my words" since Monday. I still need help lowering my cholesterol, so I'll be going back on the Simvastatin today. And that 90-day supply of Pravastatin won't go to waste, because it's the same prescription Mark takes, but he hasn't experienced any negative side effects.

Just note that the issue isn't with Pravastatin. It is with statin drugs in general. Different people are affected differently. If you're experiencing some memory issues, check out all the possibilities - don't be too quick to accept it as part of the aging process.

An Ad-Free Zone

Did you know that Google encourages people who blog to join their AdSense program? It's a way of monetizing your blog. I'd never really looked into it because I don't really appreciate ads (targeted or otherwise) showing up on my mail, on Facebook, on Words with Friends - just about anywhere you look. But I was curious about it. I wondered what kind of ads might turn up on my blog. I assumed that most people are a bit like me - relatively immune to the ads unless it's something that really catches my fancy. I figured that I could sign up and I might have enough money to buy a Coke after a year or two.

So I did that. I spent thirty minutes of my life - thirty minutes that I will never get back - to sign up for Google AdSense. And what do I get for my trouble? An email from the nameless, faceless Google AdSense team informing me that I don't meet their criteria. It also states that they can't be bothered to tell me why. Maybe they don't like my writing style. Maybe my grammar is too good for them. Maybe there aren't enough of you reading what I write. Who knows?? But rest assured, you will not be seeing any ads on my blogs.

The Federated States of Micronesia

We call our navigator or Garmin GPS (global positioning system), Miss Smartypants. That's because she knows everything. Or so it seems. She tells us where to turn in order to get to where we are going. We overlook the times she has ordered us to turn off a bridge into the air. We do not follow her blindly. We have her set up to speak with a British accent. It makes Mark feel more at home and she just seems a bit classier. (It's a very posh accent.) This newer model (we're on our fourth or fifth GPS) doesn't tell us that we're "off route", she just recalculates. Although she does give us the impression that we've displeased her when she says "recalculating" over and over because we haven't turned where she told us to. This can be very annoying, so most times we just keep her on mute.

But because we were going someplace we only go once or twice a year - the OCCC Aquatics Center in Oklahoma City - we decided to let her soothing voice guide us on our way. I was a bit surprised when she told me to turn right on S Mays Avenue. That was S Mays, pronounced Ess Mays, not South Mays. I know that Miss Smartypants knows the word South. She is perfectly capable of telling me to "take the slip road to Dallas North Tollway South". She does not tell me to get on Dallas North Tollway S. Why am I turning on to S Mays instead of South Mays?

There are some other roads in Texas that include S. For example, SH. SH stands for State Highway. And when we come to SH 121, Miss Smartypants tells us to turn on to Texas One Hundred Twenty One. Not State Route 121 - not SR 121. We also have county roads, shown on signage as CR. Again, she tell us to turn on County Road Ninety Two, not C R 9 2.

We also have FM roads here in Texas. FM stands for Farm to Market. Fairly self-explanatory. These were farm roads that went into the markets in town. So you can imagine my surprise when Miss Smartypants said to "Turn Left on Federated States of Micronesia Three Hundred Seventy Two."

I think we laughed until we turned off FM 372.

We live on Walnut Street, also known as FM 455. If you'd like a chuckle, click here to listen to Miss Smartypants tell us where to turn.

A Week in Northumberland

Some of my friends were envious when they learned we were about to spend a couple of weeks in England - in February. Others just laughed. And when I said we were spending one of those weeks up near the Scottish border, they stopped laughing and said "ooooh". (Except for a few who laughed even harder - you know who you are.)

I assume they were laughing because I don't particularly like cold. I admit I was somewhat envious of friends who were taking trips to Hawaii and the Virgin Islands. (You know who you are.) The north of England is cold in the summer time. We were in Manchester last year in June and people were wearing winter coats. (Not lightweight jackets - winter coats.) So my expectation was that it would be cold - very cold and that the area near the Scottish border would be even colder. Because I was expecting cold, damp and snow I took a heavy, water-repellant coat. Mark bought me a knit hat and gloves at Christmas specifically for this trip. The hat has huge pom poms and it makes me look ridiculous, but it keeps me warm. So do the gloves.

The wind blowing off the North Sea was even colder than the wind that blows off the lake in Chicago. But we didn't see any rain except for one afternoon when we were driving from Clacton to Hitchin (in the south). Actually, it was sunny for the first week.

So even though the sun wasn't shining that second week in Northumberland, it wasn't raining and that's always good. (At least in my book.) We based ourselves in Lowick, a small village and from there we explored the area. We went to Berwick-upon-Tweed, a walled city.

We also visited Kielder Water and Forest...

Seahouses and Holy Island...

and Bamburgh Castle.

And then just before we left, it snowed!!