Land of Opportunity

What does the Grand Canyon, the Hualapai and a businessman from Las Vegas have in common?

They have Big Opportunity.
They have the very-soon-to-be-open-to-the-public 4000 feet up from the canyon floor, glass and steel beamed Skywalk.

Quite an architectural undertaking.
Pretty exciting.
A glass bottom boat experience, to be sure.

But at what cost?
Integrity of the landscape?
Centuries old spirituality of the sacred Native American site?

This venture on tribal land at Grand Canyon West has been contested by those who claim it only serves to exploit the landscape for profit.

Doh!

There is truth to this statement, of course - as monies from increased tourism to the area due to the skywalk will indeed profit - not only the project developers (greed?), but the tribes (economic survival?) who OK'd the project and who reside on the area reservations.
Reservations that still need to improve on basic sewer and water needs...

At this time, I'm watching another Ken Burns documentary: 'Lewis & Clark'.
So - understand my impatience with any arguments over whose right it is to raze the countryside - claiming ownership to, developing on, marring the natural beauty of and exhausting the resources of - land which up to now has remained relatively undeveloped...

Who isn't for preservation of the beauty of untouched natural landscape?
But get real.

Stop me now! I'm having waaaaay too much FUN!

Look familiar?

Thursday BONUS

V is for...

Commonly known as V is for Victory, the origin of the hand sign has been credited to this person.

Take care in using the V hand signal - lest your V gesture be misinterpreted as an insult (if you mean for it to be an insult, have at it!). Leave it to the British to turn a Peace Victory into an Up Yours. For more Brit slang, look here.

I received a bit of early training: from these guys in this movie.

Chocolate!?!

Chocolate Altoids!
Had my first one today.
I don't get out much.

Got my fill...

of Chinese New Year lions.


















I did. I think I really did. Can you believe it? Me - Never-Get-Enough-of-Chinese-New-Year-Lions-B.

There were oodles of jumping gyrating lions in the San Francisco CNY parade this past Saturday. Accompanied by the easily recognizable, traditional, steady beat of drums gongs and cymbals. Clang Clang Clang Clang.

Once again, I didn't choose to mingle and meld with the crowds at the annual CNY parade this year. It was an option, but really, the next time I attend, it'll have to be ringside with a seat in the stands or with primo vantage viewing on some family association's balcony.

Instead - I watched the festivities on TV and was happy for it.

Here at home in the woods, we don't get the KTVU Bay Area telecast or (are you kidding?!?) any kind of Cantonese TV reception. In order to participate in the holiday, HD and I drove to San Francisco and spent the weekend with family and friends. The weather was unbelievably perfect: sunny, warm and clear with little to no wind. In March! In San Francisco! Almost nevah hoppen! San Franciscans and tourists alike were quite ecstatic.

On Saturday we lunched with my oldest friend (since Kindergarten) who also happened to be in town visiting with relatives. The little hole-in-the-wall eatery Lynn chose was specifically for the Hung Tao Yee WonTon, but I was also lovin' the Hyde Street cable cars rolling by just a few feet from the open front door.

We followed the meal by walking down towards the North Beach/ Nob Hill/ Chinatown neighborhood where we grew up. Reminiscing about our old haunts, we also took in spectacular views from high on the hilltops: landmarks, skyscrapers and the cool blue bay. We even made our way to Grant Avenue and elbowed through throngs of enthusiastic revelers at the Annual Spring Street Fair.
Ah...friends, sights and sounds from then and now...

Back to the parade...watching it on TV often proves to be one of the 'best seats in the house'.
Seeing all those prancing dancing lions on the telly actually satisfied my fix as well as my fill for dancing lions this CNY season. Stating the obvious, televised lion dancing in no way compares to the major thrill n' chill of an in-person encounter. It also goes without saying that beggars can no be choicy!

Once again - I wish you all Gung Hay Fot Choy Happy New Year of the Pig.
I ate like one this weekend, so am off to a most auspicious beginning.

in lieu of dancing...

yesterday (as was my plan) -
I ate cookies.

They weren't even home baked-by-yours-truly cookies. They were store bought.

I enjoy cookies, and will occasionally go on a fave cookie binge. But not too often.
When it comes to cookies, my preference is for crispy. Those that crunch when you bite into them. Soft cookies always seem a bit 'uncooked' to me, and I'm not one to favor raw cookie dough.

However, late last night whilst shopping for even later last night dinner items - I impulsively grabbed a plastic container filled with soft fruit bar cookies. Once in the car, I set the container on the passenger seat - and ate three cookies on the 30 minute drive home. One every 10 minutes or so - how disciplined! I took little bites, savoring the spicy sugary molasses-y flavor, and the tasty bits of dried fruit. They...were...yummy.

Cardinal rule when grocery shopping: Never go when you're hungry.
I did. Had skipped dinner, gone off to a two and a half hour class (sans snacks to tide me over till the next meal), then experienced growly tummy and borderline no-food-shakes by the time class was over.

My intention was to run into the grocery store real quick-like, after class - to shop for meat, veggies, dried cranberries and a loaf of bread. I ended up with quite a few items unrelated to dinner or my (mental) grocery shopping list. Seaweed salad, two kinds of fruit preserves (they were on sale!), several other interesting things as well as the aforementioned soft fruit bar cookies. I had $20 ready to shop, pay and run - but my total for all the essentials + extras came closer to $60.

Eeeps! and Oh well!
There were few shoppers in the store so I could easily navigate my cart through the aisles, I had a good time admiring the food displays and enjoyed a pleasant drive home munching on cookies along the dark, curving forested road. And this morning - well, it was almost like Christmas. The fridge and cabinet full of surprise goodie foodstuffs.

I guess you could say I did do some fancy dancing after all - up and down the aisles of the grocery store?!?
Though no weight loss related exercise associated with the cookies...

Bonus: recipe for a variation of them there cookies.
The checkout cashier informed me that the fruit bar cookies were originally baked in one pan and cut-up into squares to sell. She said the store bakery had since changed the forming of the cookies to sliced, then baked - yielding slightly crisped edges on every piece.
She was pleased about that, and told me I would be too.
Then the bagger placed the box of cookies at the top of one of my bags, so I could get to it easier back at my car...

What service!

everybody dance now!

I exercise at Curves for Women.
I exercise there when I can get there, that is.

...which isn't as frequently as I resolve to...

A decent workout can be had at Curves, and the main value I see for going there is the strength-training. I do feel stronger after doing the Curves circuit with any regularity.

Therein lies the problem.
Going there and doing the workout - regularly.

Truth be known, I find exercising at 'the gym' a bit of a bore.
As well as a chore.
Having to make time to get to 'the place of exercise' three or four or five days out of a week is sometimes more than I can handle. To make matters worse, it's a 25 minute drive from my home to the nearest Curves.
Having to listen to the recorded music that is played there is sometimes close to intolerable. At the Curves franchise where I'm a card-carrying member, the music runs the gamut from Kinda Catchy to OK-Fine to Downright Cacky (I hate exercising to Christian Rock).

At home, I have a NordicTrack ski machine which is a great workout (again, if used regularly) - but exercising on that can get boring too.
Even with the TV on.

However and Hmmmmm....
What about Dancing as exercise?

Dancing.
Now that can be a fun way to move the ol' bod.
More so if the music is a tune that one can't help but move to.

I have the extended version (16.7 minutes on CD) of 'Gonna Make You Sweat/Everybody Dance Now' by C+C Music Factory. Been thinking about beginning a mini exercise regimen of dancing to that CD twice a day (when I'm around the homestead and not out of town). Dancing would certainly serve to work the muscles of this aging bod; and get some aerobics in, to boot.
As for the same song getting repetitive, well - you know me and RPT!
No problemo!

Tell ya what, I'm going to give it a go tomorrow.
No one's home and I'll be able to dance round the house all by my lonesome - with wild abandon - just like a Flaming Fool.
Perhaps I'll even make up some fancy dance steps to go with the song.
(Believe me, I won't be giving up Curves anytime too soon though)

Report to follow.

That does it!

I guess the next move will be to #$@^&?^!!!*&%$#^!? Butte, Montana!

There's some truly wonderful things about living rural: spacious countryside, peace and quiet, natural surroundings right outside your door, lots of free parking, little road traffic, no crowds....
spacious countryside, peace and quiet, natural surroundings right outside your door, lots of free parking, little road traffic, no crowds....
(Oooooh, am I already repeating myself?)

Anyways.
Butte might be as good as it gets as far as small rural towns (in the U.S.A.) + recognition of local Chinese history + the celebration of Chinese New Year.

Hmmmmm....Montana.....Big Sky Country.....mebbe get a thousand acres with a little (or little bit bigger) log cabin on it....
Ah - to be able to step out of my humble rural abode and into town every year at this time - to see a FESTIVE CNY PARADE.

Even if it does take standing in the DAMNDEST FREEZING COLD to witness it.

like it's going out of style

I've been knitting and (machine) felting - like it's going out of style.

What starts out looking like the (armless) body of a sweater sized to fit a 10 yr. old child becomes ...after a hot bath in the washing machine....


a tea cozy for a smallish teapot. A tea cozy that looks like a densely woven night watchman's cap...

HolyMoly, I expected it to shrink considerably, but not this much. I'd heard 30% in height and 25% in width. I've also been told that felting shrinkage can be 60% in height/length.
This must be closer to 60%!

Felting is full of surprises, and the process can get a little frustrating, but basically - I like it.

The unexpected is going to allow (force?) me to stray quite dramatically from the original cute English Cottage Tea Cozy pattern I set out to make, and put my own funky twist on the end product. What with using assorted leftover yarns for Tea Cosy #3 (yes, this is my third attempt at the same pattern), I've already turned it into a striped cottage. Ye Olde Striped English Cottage with Striped Roof.

Not a problem, as I'm beginning to embrace my creative process being all about the ad lib after screwing up with following the instructions...

So Ai Ya and WhoopdeeDoo.

It's not quite safe to go back into the water yet. There will be more about
my felted knitting projects in future posts. I just wanted to post 'before' and 'after' pix.

And to show that I also have the ability to turn a $1 bill into a $20 bill....
(yost keeding)

Hey Vic-Tor!

Fry bread to the movie 'Smoke Signals' - is what Jai (aka Buddha's Delight) is to Chinese New Year.
Very very important.

As is Nien Gow - Chinese New Year (sweet glutinous rice) 'cake'. Make no mistake - this is not your mama's angel food cake!

Jai is a complicated dish to cook, requiring 18 (more or less?) ingredients. My Dad made the best Jai - so delicious, so packed full of good stuff. No skimpin' on the best things to put in (though I never did appreciate the gingko nuts). Dad took a lot of pride in his Chinese New Year Jai, and friends/family would come from far and wide to have a taste.

Nien Gow isn't quite as difficult to prepare - fewer ingredients, though there are many steps to the process. However, there isn't any Peen Tong to be had round these parts. My Aunt Virge always made the best Nien Gow.

I've got to try my hand at both: this year or next (depending on where and when I can obtain the authentic foodstuffs).

More to say...

about Asian new year celebrations...

Gung Hay Gung Hay

Sun Neen Fy Lok,
Gung Hay Fot Choy!
Wishing you a prosperous New Year!

Contrary to common belief (outside the circle), Chinese New Year is not a one-day celebration, as is January 1 New Year.
You can't just say 'Gung Hay Fot Choy' and call it a day.

Beginning on the first day of the Chinese new year (each year the first day coincides with the new moon - this year it was Sunday, February 18th), the CNY celebration continues for 15 days. Yep. That's a lot of feasting and festing. Numerous visits back and forth and back again with relatives and friends. Many a bounteous meal. Laughter and bright decor and lucky money!

When I was a kid, CNY was bigger than Christmas at our house. That's right. Bigger than Christmas. As the years have passed and my moves have taken me further and further from (any) Chinese community, it's gotten tougher to recognize CNY for the huge holiday I've always known it to be. It's like losing a significant part of my tradition, and that makes me sad.

This year, I'm trying my best to recreate CNY in my life as something beyond the few (well-meant and sincerely expressed) Happy New Year Gung Hay Fot Choy greetings from family/friends. How to do that in a locale where the sale of 'oriental foodstuffs' in supermarkets is what defines and heralds the holiday? That will be my personal challenge...and what a challenge that be!

High spirits and focused determination, however, will prevail...
even if it means eating a fortune cookie a day for 15 days...
or practicing Cantonese....

Ai Ya!
and
Onward!

apologies!

It's late.
I'm checking in with b's blog.
Double checking links n' such.
Dang!
I've just discovered that there are a couple of unlinkable links in the last post(s).
I HATE when that happens, and usually do my best to correct or delete ASAP so that y'all don't become frustrated or irritated with getting nowhere when clicking on the links.

However, I will save the re-editing task for the morning.
Need sleep...
Blurry eyed right now to do anything about it -
but -
apologize...

roving roving roving

keep them doggies roving...

Yesterday, I dropped by the yarn shop for felting needles and wool roving. While it was fun choosing the colors, there is still part of me that is a bit hesitant to begin needle felting - am I ready to add yet another crafty technique into my repertoire of...The-Not-Quite-Mastered-and-Probably-Will-Never-Quite
-Master-Craft-Techniques!?

Having already committed to the acquisition of felting supplies - I am - foiled again.
Alas!
Have supplies = must to craft!

Truthfully, I'm eager to start needle felting (being mindful not to poke myself with the dangerously barbed needles). As with all artsy crafty techniques I endeavor, doing it is accompanied by a hope that this too can one day be incorporated into mixed media artworks...of a larger and grander scale....

Mebbe.
Mebbe not.

It's-A-Good-Life-Dilemma #5,823:
What project to begin needle felting on? 2-D? 3-D? Something sculptural? Flat? Floral? Pictorial? Useful/practical? Purely aesthetic? Representational? Abstract? Whimsical?

Or just plain cute?

fiber art and such

Question: Several people recently asked how I've progressed with my comprehension of, practice on and actual use of Photoshop and/or Illustrator computer programs.

Answer: I haven't progressed much at all. Regressed is more like it. Most everything I learned a couple years ago (in a basic Photoshop/ Illustrator/Painter class) is largely parked far off and away in the back 40 of my gray matter.

I've long neglected my techno studies.
When I acquired the applications for my computer, they were the latest and greatest versions - which are no longer up-to-date, of course. To be expected when one has not paid much attention for a year or two (or more). Ah well. I'm not one to keep abreast of all-things-techno anyhow anyway.

No matter. The basic programs are still sound. My problem? If I want to do this at all, I just have to stop procrastinating and make up my mind to devote some serious study to re-learning the basics, and possibly going a bit beyond. Lord knows, I'll have to Rob Peter to Pay Paul to manage it, as my time has been otherwise occupied: with tactile artsy and crafty things like yarns, threads, fabrics, beads...

At this juncture, I could care less about the computer stuff (save for researching craft techniques on the web)(and blogging, of course).

I'm taking a 'Hands-On Art History' class. The lectures/demos have me plenty excited about traditional North, Central and South American fiber arts. In the last few weeks, we've studied the Cuna of the San Blas islands (molas), the Navajo (weaving) and Mayans (calendars, alphabet, sculpture, architecture, numbers).
I'm luvin' this stuff!
Art n' craft of indigenous peoples of the Americas. Yeah!

Our weekly homework assignments are to create an art project based on the week's topic. Students may interpret the theme using any medium (not just fiber).

With all the tiny stitches involved, a week wasn't nearly long enough to start and complete even the simplest of fabric molas, so I opted to use colored cardstock for my mola. I designed, cut and pasted. For texture, I sewed a bit of embroidery floss and metallic thread throughout. My paper mola actually looks like fabric, doesn't it?



Last week's assignment: Navajo weaving. I went this route - a small pouch woven on a small cardboard loom (fun!)(time-consuming!)(I'd do it again!):

After weaving the pouch, I added a crocheted handle, let the fringy things hang free, added beads and a handsewn fabric lining. A bit hippiedaze, but it works. I now understand the simplicity/complexity of warp and weft, and better appreciate that even the simplest woven item is a labor of combined love and patience.

As of this writing I have no clue how to approach the Mayan theme'd project. I'll get an idea sometime late Tuesday eve (just call me '11th hour B'). At that time, the creative juices will bubble over and flow...I'm sure of it.

I've stated it before and I'm stating it again:
Life is just too short for all the crafting there is to do (and all the books to read)!
Then, Good Grief! there are all those art-based computer programs....which I will get to....someday...

Love Love Love

A Beary
Happy
Heart
Day
to
All.

[this from someone who does not enjoy any manner of you-chase-after-it-or-it-chases-after-you video entertainment]

Anyways.
Good Day to You and Eat Chocolate.

RPT

T'was a blessed day, T'was a cursed day - when I discovered the RPT button on my car stereo.

I'm the Queen of RPT, or at least a Princess (yeah, I wish). I'm a big fan of creating an endless loop of my fave song from a music CD.

I usually drive with no passengers in the car, so feel at liberty to repeat a song for the
entire length of a drive...whether it's a short 10 minutes to the store or over an hour each way to visit DDJrS.

Volume: cranked (I always crack open a back window to stay aware of traffic sounds as well).
Bass: at a balanced setting to the treble (puh-leese, no car-rattling head splitting booming bass for me).

Enjoying tunes in one's car can certainly be mesmerizing - hopefully, not enough to distract from safe driving.
It is a tad more risky than focusing 100% on the driving.
It is a tad less risky than talking on one's cell, eating a sandwich or applying make-up whilst driving...

Pictured is Leo Kottke. Check out his wild style of playing the acoustic guitar.

Kottke's cover of 'Corrina Corrina' has been my RPT choice for the last two weeks.
[Regretfully, I had a link to a 30 second sampling of the song, then lost it. Been running the search again for the last hour, and still can't seem to relocate it. You'll just have to get hold of a copy of the tune for a listen.]

Best line in the song: 'I walk the world on the bottom of the sea - 'cause I can't breathe when she talks to me'. Hang there for a fraction of a sec on the word 'breathe'. Oh my.

Kottke's baritone hints of the low vocal grumblings of Garrison Keillor. Kottke likens his own singing to 'geese farts on a muggy day'.
Hmmmm.

I had to view numerous online photos of Kottke to erase the image of Keillor that kept coming to mind when listening to 'Corrina, Corrina'.

Suffice it to say that Kottke has a decidedly less...strongly featured... face...than Keillor.

Before 'Corrina, Corrina', I RPT'd selected cuts from the 'Dances With Wolves' soundtrack, listening to those for close to two weeks (!). Mental imagery of big sky, softly rolling prairieland, people living in harmony with the land, and of course - tatonka. (I try not to picture the Union soldiers).

A 2-week RPT is a considerably long run, even for me. It would drive anyone else ca-ray-zee, which is why I only RPT when I'm alone.
That way, I avoid getting committed...

I also RPT out of anyone else's earshot when I'm painting. Music RPTs can go on for hours on end when taking brush to canvas. RPTs help me to get/stay 'in the zone'.

Find yourself a copy of 'Corrina, Corrina' by Leo Kottke.

Listen to it on a good music system.

Crank the volume.

RPT the song = have a good time.

P.S. Bonus clip

Bugged!

I've been wondering why it's so acceptable for movies about
ancient Rome to feature actors/actresses with British accents.
Not only accepted, but expected.

Understandably, films made for an English-speaking audience should preferably be in English. If not, then in the language spoken by the country/time period in which the film is set - with English subtitles, of course. Mel G. did this quite effectively in 'The Passion'.

What accent, then, for Ancient Rome? Is there a Latin accent?!?
If there were still native Latin speakers, would their spoken English hint more of Italian than 'The Queen's English' or Heaven Forbid Cockney?

I don't doubt that it's a tough call.
But please, don't hand me Manchester-accented English in a film about Ancient Rome and expect me not to cringe...

HBO's 'Rome' is the worst offender.
Based loosely on world history, this series has proven wildly popular. Not for the educational angle but for generous heapings of blood and gore and exploiting the worst of human foilables. There's plenty of man's inhumanity to man (bitchy women get equal time). Naked bodies slipping into Roman baths. Sweaty sex. The dialog in 'Rome' is liberally laced with swearing, which is not quite as endearing here as it is in another much-loved HBO series (shameless plug for 'Deadwood'.

The British accents in 'Rome' are so so so very distracting.
Some of them are positively Limey Several scenes set in a Roman drinking establishment had the characters sounding more like they were at the corner pub throwing back pints and discussing football. They peppered their dialog with 'eh whot' 'mate' and (Heaven Forbid) HubbyDear swears he heard someone say 'sawry, mum'.

Gawwwwwwd!
That just ain't right.

Another example: Michael Caine is a marvelous actor, but in his role as an ex-pat Frenchman in 'The Statement' (2003), Caine delivered lines in Limey Blimey accent. As always, Caine did a great acting job - but as a Frenchman who spied for the Nazis, couldn't he have sounded just a little bit French or hinted ever-so-slightly of German? Instead, he was out and out Eliza Doolittle. I could barely stand it.

Like, 'What's Wrong With This Picture?!?'
OMG-It's-Those-Damned-Misplaced-Accents-
That's-What.

Heads-Up, Piglets!

February 18th is the first day of Chinese New Year 2007/4704-4705.

Year of the Pig.

[More to come on Chinese New Year and pigs...]

What's not to love...

about Michael Palin's travelogues for BBC?

I just watched (DVD) two of four hours from the series 'Sahara', Palin's 2001-2002 trip in and around Africa's great desert.

Details about the series can be found at this website.

For the longest time, it was unbeknowst to me that my Dad was a big Palin fan. Dad admired Michael Palin not for the Monty Python stuff, but for the travel adventures. Once when we were talking (our 'talks' were typically simple two or three sentence exchanges) about educational adventure shows on TV, Dad stated that he really enjoyed watching 'Michael' (first name only, like they were buddies). 'Michael?' I repeated incredulously. 'Who's Michael?'.

Dad answered rather matter-of-factly 'Michael Palin'.
Then added ' He's good'.

This, from my Dad - a man of few words (in English, anyway) and not many of those were 'dropped names'. Not that 'Michael Palin' is your typical household word (at least not on this side of 'The Pond').
So - what gives with Dad and Michael Palin?

Dad did a fair amount of traveling as a young man. Seafaring adventures to exotic world ports and often into remote areas beyond the coastal cities. I believe he felt akin to 'Michael' because many of the faraway/unusual locales visited by Palin were also places Dad had once set foot upon.

Michael Palin enlivens educational travelogue material with his inimitable child-like enthusiasm. Even when exhausted by the weariness and strain of constant travel, he is capable of attention to detail. He never neglects to exercising his comic genius. A tireless pursuit of knowledge is his creativity. All add up to great entertainment.
Palin is ONE with joie de vivre.

Dad too would set aside fear of the unknown as he sought answers to his questions about the world. He trod unmarked trails, navigated the proverbial uncharted waters. For Dad, the excitement of living large awaited at every turn. The man cultivated street smarts early on. At the same time, Dad took note of the humble gesture. He also never failed to enjoy a good kick-in-the-pants laff.
Life - according to Dad - was to be lived.

I can only imagine what Dad went through in mind, heart and spirit as he engaged in Palin-type experiences while making his own way round the world. What challenges: unraveling the mysteries of new cultures, battling the natural elements during travel and fraternizing (or negotiating daily survival) with the locals in unfamilar places. Not easy.
Life, not easy - but to be lived.

Through travel, curiosity, adventure and humor, Dad could identify with Michael Palin. Who knew?

I'm currently succumbing to an urge to watch any and all of Palin's travelogues from years past.
I could feel a tremendous awe as well as ticklish delight when viewing Palin's amazing travels through the Sahara. What he went through was often physically and emotionally grueling, but exhilarating as well. It's in memory of Dad - and via Palin's BBC travel series, that I venture forth vicariously on the roads-less-traveled.

Michael Palin's humor is often self-effacing and his talent is turning it into downright funny. His antics have me laughing out loud. I could chortle, guffaw and chuckle and it feels like I'm sharing a laugh with Dad again...

Dad and Michael on a journey. With me along for the ride. In the back seat. Full of wonder - and giggles.

Eureka I have found it!

I've been looking for this video for months!

I need you. I love you. Let's mate.

Don't be frightened.
It's mating season - for skunks.

Living in the forest and driving round areas where there is an abundance of open space (fields, meadows and the like), there's been malodorous as well as physical evidence of skunks running amuck.

Unfortunately, much of that skunk presence is in the form of road kill and the resulting mouffette eau de parfum.

Watch out for the amorous striped-back ones whilst driving down the road. I've developed a newfound appreciation for the little critters since reading this article. They may be stinky - but in the bigger scheme of things, they're mighty helpful.

the eyes follow you

It's my buddy, Chloë-Bear.
Trooper, who is her bro-in-da-crime-of-being-lovable - was mentioned and pictured in a previous post.
All is fair in love and equal beagle time.

nothing compares

to the one and only most authentic of oyster sauces, Lee Kum Kee.
This is the brand I am familiar with, enjoy the taste of, and - having consumed so much of it in my yoot (Humor me, this is one of my fave cult films. Go to 9:06 for 'the line', I laff out loud at this dialog between Vinny and the judge. I always but always do).

Ahem. Alrighty then. Lee Kum Kee is also the reason I pooh-pooh other oyster-flavored sauces.

Lee Kum Kee - the bottle with the famous label depicting a woman wearing a blue dress and a boy donning a yellow shirt and blue shorts. They share a boat with giant sized oysters (the Bible sez...).

My family-of-origin used this condiment like many other All-American families use catsup. As an All-American family, we also used our fair share of catsup...

We used oyster sauce in our stir-fry dishes.
We often dribbled oyster sauce straight from the bottle over top of stir-fried gai lan.

A thin layer of oyster sauce was a delectable topping for jing don, a savoury egg custard dish that is both simple and challenging to cook.

More than anything, I loved using Lee Kum Kee Oyster-Flavored Sauce for bite-sized pieces of siu yook (roast pork belly meat (or) whole suckling pig (don't investigate this further if you think piglets are cute - which I do, but alas, they are also quite tasty). It's often stated that siu yook is an entreé served for special occasions such as weddings. In our home, siu yook was a staple that appeared on the dinner table several times a week. Not the whole roast suckling pig, mind you - but a pound or pound a half at a time (purchased at the 'deli' in Chinatown). So much for being poor folk. We ate WELL. No small wonder friends 'just happened to drop' by at the dinner hour...(Yes, we welcomed them, shared whatever we were serving, added more if needed and it was always great fun to dine en masse).

One of my tasks as 'kid kitchen assistant' was to create, in a small shallow dish - the perfect ratio of oyster sauce to garlic and ginger infused peanut oil. This was served as a dipping sauce alongside a platter of cut-up siu yook.

Tonight, I opened a bottle of squeezable Lee Kum Kee and squirted a tiny bit over my steamed lop cheoung rice. The slightly pungent, yet spirited aroma of the oyster sauce immediately triggered rather vivid olfactory as well as gustatory memories.

A traumatic moment or event can cause your whole life to flash before your eyes. But what about all your meals flashing before your eyes? That sensation can certainly be roused by the smell of certain foods/ spices/ condiments. Happens to me all the dang time.

And I luv it.

For DollinkDaughterLLS

Because you enjoyed the choreography by The Whispers on 'And The Beat Goes On'...

This first little video clip may or may not bring back a musical memory for you...

You were all of 3 (?) or 4(?) years old when DaddyDear and I took you to see The Temps and The Four Tops at the Circle Star Theater in San Carlos.

The next time you're exasperated with frustrating things, try to lift your spirits with Motown Oldies but Goodies and a bit of dancin' dancin' dancin' - because darlin', you are a Dancing Machine...

Why does EVERYTHING have to be so hard?!?

Several years ago, in a moment of extreme exasperation, DollinkDaughterLLS asked this, a most rhetorical question.

Of course, she didn't mean EVERYTHING. Nor did she mean to imply that everything is SO HARD.
She did mean to say that it don't come easy...

DDLLS was in the middle of a seemingly endless experience of exchanging a DVD player (or was it VHS player?)(or was it the broken part for her rice cooker?). Anyways. Dealing with the store where the item was originally purchased, she sought to get an exchange and/or purchase a new part. The store gave her the run-around. Referred her to the manufacturer. Manufacturer gave her the run-aound. New parts sent or product was exchanged. New part or product not satisfactory. Issue still not resolved.
More contact made. More run-around. More frustration.
The kind of frustration that makes you want to run screaming.

This weekend, I (and my cohorts in DIY) had a taste of this good ol' fashioned frustration. We've been trying to update one of the bathrooms in our Little House in the Big Woods. New sinks, new mirrors, new faucets, new lights. New countertops. Nothing fancy. Changing out the pink laminate for a faux stone laminate. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so.
It seemed so easy. Go to Lowes, choose from a small selection of pre-fab laminate counters. Pay and take. Nice.

Go home and find out just before installing countertop that the thing won't fit. We purchased the wrong size countertop. It's too large. Took the measurement of the width and figured - countertops = standard depth. Not so. Depth measurement of new purchase is 25" and the bathroom counter area allows for approx. 21 1/2". What we bought is a kitchen countertop and bathroom countertops are narrower. Who knew?!? I never noticed this difference. A countertop is a countertop.
Apparently not.

Exchange? Not an option - neither LowlyLowes nor Home Despot carry pre-fab laminate bathroom countertops.
Return the one we bought?
And get what?

Proceed? Option: chop the thing down to size by lopping off close to 4" along the front or back of the entire 8' 4 1/2" length? Either way, we'd be losing either the built-in backsplash or the moulded front edge (a nice rounded shape). In either case, something would have to be added front or back to make up for the sawed-off section.
Aicheemama!

This is the stuff of Frankensteinian home decor. Unfortunately, I know it too well as:
Make-do DIY. On a dime, on a shoestring, on a budget. Weekend warriors who get very good at covering up their handyman-handywoman mistakes.

It's always a bit risky cutting laminate = if not done 'right', the whole thing could chip, crack, and crumble like phyllo dough handled too roughly (alas, food references are sometimes the best).

I asked myself 'Why does EVERYTHING have to be so hard?!? Why can't it just be EASY?!?' I busied myself with cleaning house (when all else fails, clean house or re-organize something)(well, it works for me anyway).

Let's skip ahead to the happy ending. A small group of friends & family DIY-ers set their minds and skills (and the use of a very nice table saw with razor sharp fine-toothed blade) to the task, and made a bathroom countertop happen. It was a moment of Great Phew. Aforementioned laminate countertop has been hacked down to size. Yes, at the loss of the backsplash, but a band of decorative mosaic tile can be subbed in.

It WILL look great (before and after pix will appear on this blog when the project is completely done - patience, please).

And the beat goes on.

Holiday!

Every day is a blank slate. Very exciting.

However, some people allow their days to pass without much significance. Nothing on the slate. Not even a productive-purposely-not-being-productive 'Day to unwind and relax and enjoy the quiet'. These folks have 'boring days'. What is that?!? Such a shame.

We can make something of each 24 hours. It took me years to adopt this mindset, but I now hold to the belief that each day we're lucky enough to wake up to - holds promise. Good stuff. Special moments here and there, then and now that just happen or that we create. Active or passive endeavors. Keeping mindful of the fact that we are instrumental in making our days count for something.
Little things that give life meaning. They add up.
It's nice.

Holidays are social constructs.
Designated days on the calendar that provide reason to pause, ponder and/or celebrate. Most holidays are anniversaries of significant events. They serve as days of observance. Some happy, others sad. It behooves us to take note. Balance is all-important.

Some holidays are just for fun.
Why the heck not?!?
Any opportunity to celebrate good times, c'mon!

Today is National Pie Day.
Eat pie, bake pie or think about pie (I particularly like the idea of 'Perform random
acts of Pieness'.)

Today I'm baking a pie. After all, it's a holiday.
(and there's lots of apples in the fridge...)

Toy Dolls I had and Toy Dolls I wanted

Memory Lane! This is a bit lengthy for most of us 'insta internet-ers' (skip to about 6:54 for the real 'good stuff'), but is pretty telling of the advertising hype directed at little girls back in the 50's...

jumping on the bandwagon

the Instant RAMEN Bandwagon, that is.
As per the internet, RAMEN RULES.

It didn't take very much online research to entice me back into the ramen fold. I was assimilated into obsessive ramen-eating far too many years ago to resist the call.

As a child growing up in SF's Chinatown, I ate my share of fresh-noodles-in-soup. Eating noodles is not only a cultural tradition, but a staple in the diet of my family-of-origin.
After the invention of instant ramen in 1958, preparation of tasty noodle soups became even less time-consuming, and my parents would keep the kitchen larder supplied with case after case of the packaged noodle treats.
Moreover, I could finally 'cook' it on my own.

As with all good food-related things, I overindulged. Instant Ramen everyday. Sometimes twice a day. Not necessarily as a meal, but as a snack.
Back then, as it is nowadays - it was fun to discover new ways to prep instant noodles. Here's one favored by my Mom:
Open package of ramen noodles and toss the flavoring packet.
Cook, then drain ramen of all but a tablespoon of the cooking water.
Add a bit of garlic-ginger infused peanut oil, curry powder, oyster sauce, ketchup and a dash of toasted sesame oil.
Use chopsticks to mix it all up.
Eat.
Yum.

As a young adult, like most others of my gen, I got into healthy, organic and vegetarian. It was then that I realized instant ramen was a fried food, probably full of MSG and WAAAAAAAY TOO MUCH SODIUM. And calories - mostly empty! Not the healthiest of foods. For the next few decades, I jumped on and off the Instant Ramen Wagon. I still loved the taste of it, but tried to be good. Really, I tried. At the market, a craving would overtake me and I'd pick up a few packages to savor as the occasional snack.
However, slurping down a bowl of fresh noodle soup (either homemade or in a restaurant) has remained a constant. It was the packaged ramen that I'd been trying to wean from.

In the last few years, I find myself succumbing even more frequently to instant ramen as a comfort (albeit guilty indulgence) food. As of late, I've been needing a great deal of comfort - and so damn the guilt is my new mantra..

The other week, older brother S-O e-mailed a ramen url to me. The link led to other ramen-based websites and ramen blogs (galore!).
Ramen-lovers of the world write so eloquently of their chosen food addiction!
And the accompanying photos!
Hot steaming bowls of ramen:
Plain or embellished - with additional meat, tofu, veggies, dried seaweed, etc.
That did it. My mouth waters for the stuff.

I'm officially back in the instant ramen ranks - with a vengeance!
ASAP, I'm heading to the nearest Asian market to buy an assortment...

HELLO 2007!
FILLED WITH HAPPY DAYS AHEAD EATING INSTANT RAMEN NOODLES IN EVERY WAY SHAPE AND FORM!
Life IS short.
Ramen does Rule!

Something else to look forward to in 2007: another very promising new movie with
ramen noodles as a key player.
WhooooooooooHooooooooooo!

just bead it

I came. I saw. I BEADED.
Teeny tiny Japanese seed beads and Swarovski crystal beads and long thin needles and skinny thread. An itsy bitsy lightweight safety chain! I broke out in a sweat getting that sucker attached!

It's a bracelet. I took the pic upon finishing it this afternoon. My very first Older Broad Bead Project that required considerably more effort to create than the simple seed bead strands a lá Summer of Love.

With the help of a friend, I followed a (modified) pattern from Bead & Button.
Well, kinda sorta followed it [because I'm a kinda sorta artsy craftygal].

Turns out there's something wonderful known as freeform beading. This is a good thing. As I happily worked along on this bracelet, I invariably (due to my 'creative process') miscalculated the pattern, forgot where I was with the bead count, allowed for slips of the needle. The bracelet ended up being my interpretation of freeform. Yeah, right.
'Go back and re-do' is not my modus operandi, so it is what it is.

Oh well.
It turned out just fine. As in don't-examine-it-too-closely just fine.

Beading isn't rocket science, but it ain't no walk in the park either.
Like most crafts that require concentration, beading can be a challenge. At the same time, it's enjoyable (in a masochistic way). Is there room for error? I'm banking on it. It behooves the novice to make use of any and all sparkly beads available. Tip: they do double duty by dazzling the eye away from little bitty mistakes.

Thank goodness for Ott-Lite with magnifiers and beading needles that split open to facillitate threading. Both tools helped get me through the project relatively unscathed (save for the throbbing headaches).

Love the results and plan to do more...since I've already invested in the light/magnifier...

softest robe (really and truly)

Two days ago, DollinkDaughterJrS presented me with a new robe. Not a Happy New Year or Birthday or Mother's Day gift - it was a 'thinking-of-you-just-because' present. Sweeeeeeeeet!

The robe I've been wearing for the last few years is made of fuzzy fleecy fabric in a large Paul Bunyan-type plaid print and is wrap-style. It's cozy and definitely Mountain MamaWear. Putting on my old robe is like throwing on a huge plaid cabin-in-the-woods print blanket that just happens to have sleeves and a collar. Each cold winter evening (there's a run of them of late) I look forward to tucking myself into Old Plaidy for a nice warm snuggle.
As much as I enjoy the comfort offered by my old robe, I'm sure others who see me in it wish for something a tad more...attractive?...to look upon.

The new robe (pictured above) is off-white in color, has a large hood, and in the style of my plaid robe it wraps around and secures with a self-fabric belt. It's made of an incredibly luxe, indescribably soft (and I mean the softest) fabric. It's a polyester but OoooohLaaaLaaa, what a polyester!
I, who covet natural fabrics like wool, cotton, silk, linen and the like - and typically eschew synthetics - am in LUV with this material!

This robe is, hands-down decidedly more attractive than Old Plaidy. Wearing it is an exercise in sensuality. It's soft on the outside, but even softer on the inside. Truth be known, I can't stop petting it!

In my excitement (cheap thrills abound), I Google'd 'softest fabric' and found all manner of faux velvet fur so-soft-you-can't-stand-it fabric: 'Minkee', 'Moccasin' (stuffed-bears!), 'Minky'...

I adore the tactile experience of all the new fabrics on the market, particularly the ones manufactured from resources like hemp (check out who utilized hemp fiber for industry over 5000 years ago), bamboo and soy.
Who knew there are so many organic clothing websites?

To be sure, let's all sing praises to organic and green and ethical, but today's post has everything to do with the softy polysynthetics, so Huzzah Huzzah for my new luxurious bathrobe!
I luv winter!!!

LoveKissyHuggys to DollinkDaughterJrS for your thoughtfulness!

P.S. Not one to forget an old friend, I am keeping Old Plaidy around for those Enuff-Softiness-Awready evenings.

resistance...

...(as they say) is fu-ti-le.
California drivers (and all visiting drivers?) who wish to use cell phones in transit - consider yourself forewarned: You will be assimilated.
Assimilation date = July 2008.

Did Arnie sign on the dotted line because of his past affiliation with all-things-cyborg?
Seems he did - moving us into a giant cozy collective with one fell swoop of the gubernatorial pen.

Like it or not, it appears that BlueTooth type apparati will prevail as hands-free cell phone accessories become de rigueur for all California drivers who drive whilst using their cell phones.
I absolutely agree that hands-free is long overdue being enforced by a law. Driving with the fewest distractions is the way to go: keeping your mind on the driving and your hands on the wheel and your snoopy eyes on the road ahead is no joke, but Ai Ya!
It is sometimes necessary to use that cell phone for those quick 'Where am I?' connections. On more than one occasion, Yours Truly has even deemed it necessary. Sad to say, I may succumb to compliance with the new law and find myself choosing a hands-free accessory before long.

Though I am banking on the probability that we won't all be subjected to those horrid Borg-Like Implants.
With the inevitable technological advances quickstepping to the cause, there should be attractive hands-free options aplenty before long. Designs to choose from that are considerably less Borg.

For those of us who face assimilation: let us pledge NOT to wear our hands-free paraphernalia day in and day out. Vow to remove them whilst dining, sleeping, at the movies, swimming, on a date, at a wedding, at a funeral, at the beach, at the kids soccer games et cetera.

To accessorize with hands-free techno gadgets makes a poor fashion statement. Most of us aren't undercover agents. Heck, except for the sunglasses and suits - even the Secret Service isn't so obvious.
As you may recall from my earlier BlueToof post, I become quite irritated at the sight of a grown man (men more so than women, in my view) parading as such. Businessman working on his laptop at the airport whilst waiting for a flight? OK - needs BorgToof for hands-free audio communication with the office.
Average Joe in casual attire sporting a hands-free earpiece whilst shopping for groceries? Ptui! That is so *%$!)*!?##!&@*! pretentious and reeks of a false sense of self-importance.

Let's not forget to mention that it's rude. Have you ever been engaged in conversation with someone wearing a BorgTooth and suddenly in the middle of talking to YOU that person starts talking to....SOMEONE ELSE on his/her earpiece?!? Without so much as an alert or apology to you?!?
Like, uh - 'I'm soooooo in demand that I just can't miss a phone call, and therefore I need not practice any degree of proper social etiquette?!?'.
Cack.

For all us 'regulah folk', lest we become so affected - t'would be wise to begin chanting the mantra now: Only in the car...only in the car...only in the car...

[This is an addendum to my 8/21/06 post: 'Your Toofs is Blue']

nit-pickin'

Got some free time and no nits to pick?

While away a few with a 'Dances with Wolves' DVD and this list.
My personal fave nit is Stands-With-A-Fist's hairdo.
I've been ranting about that since day 1.

Ask of and listen to...

your elders.
They have much to offer.

Talk about been there, seen it and done that.
Boyohboy, have they.

There are those who feel that seniors are nameless faceless tottering old folk who shouldn't be participating in society. That is such a mistaken notion and soooooooo unjust.

Our society perpetuates this misconception of old people as worth less, and we mentally, physically and emotionally move them out of the 'can-do' mainstream. In our modernity, it seems we've wandered much too far from the respect due our elders.

More than ever before, many of us (slightly) (much) (considerably) younger types could benefit from the wisdom of the elderly and their life experiences. As we go through our own trials and tribulations, couldn't we all use something of the practical advice that the older generations have to offer?

Venture to ask. Many will be thrilled that you did.
In doing so, you may be the lucky recipient of commonsense pearls-o-wisdom.

In return, express gratitude.
Acknowledgement.
Respect.

Make some time in your busy, harried, frenzied no-time-to-get-it-all-done day to acknowledge a senior.
Take a minute.
Give a precious moment.
Get a better one right back.

white as snow

I'm fairly new to snow. Seeing it, tromping in it, living in an environment where one can expect to experience a bit of it sometime between November and April. West Coast Inner City Gals who aren't winter sports enthusiasts don't get much early exposure to snowfall, snowstorms, and the like. As a kid, I stayed pretty close to home. No snow in that neck o' the woods.

I first played in snow when I was a teen. Wearing blue jeans, I had no understanding that denim sucks up the icy slush of melted snow, rendering the fabric freezing cold and wet. Not to mention heavy. Of course, I didn't know to bring a change of clean dry clothes to wear for the 4+ hour car ride back home. Brrrrrrrrrrr (sound effect of teeth chattering). 'Nuff said.

I didn't see snow falling until I was an adult, whilst visiting Japan in the wintertime: There I was by my lonesome on a little train choo-chooing into the inner reaches of Northern Honshu. I was on my way to the city of Akita...

I was venturing into the rural part of Japan - quite a change from bustling Tokyo where I'd just been. Looking very much the tourist, I sat like a fish-outta-water with the locals on that train. It was night, no one spoke English (I tried asking simple 'Are we heading to...?' questions, but people shook their heads as if they couldn't understand, or didn't wish to engage in conversation), no signs were in English and several of my fellow passengers had caged pet birds and chickens on the seats beside them. Country bumpkins who didn't want to bother with a confused (and possibly suspect) n' dazed dame on a train riding into the remote?

I was a female traveling alone. Schlepping two heavy suitcases. 39 years young (ah, eons ago), my hair worn long and loose, sporting a pair of thinnish cotton stretch pants with a little print (fashionable at the time?), white athletic shoes (bad combo) and a bright turquoise wool jacket (what was I thinkin'?!?). Maps and a guidebook in hand. Pretty obvious = tourist-o.

This was my first trip to Japan - a month long (solo) sojourn up and down the island chain on a JapanRailPass. Quite the adventure. Little ol' me bumbling about from point A to B to C and onward. It was wonderful. Scary. Educational. Exciting. However, it was not without many an anxious moment as I made my way from one new place to another - engaging in one new experience after another. To be sure, surprises awaited at every turn...

The passengers on that rural train quietly observed my every move (hey, I KNOW when someone is sneaking a peek in my direction!). I did my best not to appear TOO self-conscious. I chose to avoid eye contact and direct my gaze out the window. Trying to be inconspicuous is difficult for any gaijin in Japan, even one who looks Asian and could possibly be mistaken for a native. The locals can easily spot a foreigner. Although no one ever actually mistook me for a Japanese National, it did happen a couple of times on a brief encounter, but any interaction and they knew I wasn't from round those parts. After sizing me up, most people (shyly, politely) asked if I was American (which, oddly enough - never occurs in the States, where I'm typically asked if I'm Chinese)(Hmmmmmm....).
At any rate.....
The train entered a tunnel. A very l-o-n-g tunnel, and it really did seem to go on forever. Staring out a train window when going through a tunnel means staring out at nothingness, so I did as the locals do and closed my eyes as if cat-napping. When we emerged out the other end - I opened my eyes again and found that it was - snowing! Big white snowflakes fluttering down against the backdrop of a deep navy blue sky.

How picturesque!
I gasped out loud. The other passengers looked over at me (again). One smiled.

It was rather a magical moment for me - first snowfall and all.

In spite of the circumstances.
I wasn't sure I was on the right train to my destination: things became even more worrisome when the train made an unannounced 5 minute stop, changed tracks to go in a different direction, and all the other passengers knew to get up and flip their seats over to face the opposite way. I had no clue as to what was happening and a kind soul took pity on me by helping me flip my seat. 'Domo arigato' said I, but still didn't know if I'd ever make it to Akita. Ah well - best to Let Go and Let JapanRail. Fingers crossed that I was still en route. As it is, a good part of travel for me is not knowing with any certainty if I'm going to get where I originally plan to go...

Settling back into my (reversed direction) seat and taking in the idyllic winter scene outside calmed me down. For a moment the anxiety of travel subsided...

...and then there was all that beautiful white snow. First sighted from a train coming out of a mountain tunnel, it was very 'Yasunari Kawabata'. It did seem the stuff of novels.

Clean falling snow. Snow you could make a sno-cone out of, dribble a little sweet flavoured syrup over, and have a chilly cooling bite.

I didn't know then that snow isn't as clean as it appears to be. More often than not (always?), even the whitest snow contains dirt. Besides taking heed in the wisdom of the warning 'Don't Eat the Yellow Snow', one should reconsider before rolling up a ball of clean white snow and thinking Sno-Cone Naturale. That icy treat may be riddled with gritty dirt.

An experiment I found online and can hardly wait to try when the first snowstorm blankets our property: Fill a jar with the whitest snow you can find and bring it inside. Let it melt. No matter how clean that snow appeared there will always be some dirt in it.

White as snow. Clean and pure as the driven...

Another myth dispelled. Ya just gotta love it.

P.S. What a good excuse to reminisce a bit about that first trip to Japan. Nice memories. I've been thinking that it's high time to return for another visit...

Yum Cha

On January 1st, we enjoyed such a tasty dim sum lunch in San Francisco. There was a TON of food. And tea. Major Yum Cha action.

Chinese dumplings were part of the meal. Wrapped in wonton skin and/or wrapped in other thin noodle dough. Pork-filled, shrimp-filled or filled with other tasty ingredients.
They were good. I mean goooooooooood. Perfect, actually. At least I thought so...

Many a diner in Chinese restaurants (dare I actually say 'in particular those diners of Chinese-descent'?) will talk about the food whilst eating it. What I mean is discuss in detail. As in analyze. Evaluate. Scrutinize. JUDGE.

And I do mean pick it apart.
Oftentimes, the entire meal conversation will be focused on the preparation of the food that was just ordered, labored over in the kitchen and presented now for gastronomic enjoyment.
Or not.

Typical comments: too salty, not salty enough (no flavor), ingredients chopped too fine, not chopped finely enough, overcooked meat or fish, undercooked meat or fish, stringy tough vegetables, too many vegetables, not enough vegetables, not enough sauce, too much sauce, meat not trimmed well of fat and gristle, meat is overtrimmed of fat and gristle, too much filler of baby corn, onion, bamboo shoots, celery, not enough baby corn, etc. (this comment is rarely made), etc. etc. Portion size is also looked at: not enough = skimpy. Overladen plate = Hmmmm, they give a lot. (this comment is never uttered loud enough for the restaurant staff to overhear, lest they reduce the portions next time round).
Temperature of the food is just as important as taste and portion size: Too hot to eat, too COLD to eat (this is a biggie - hot cooked Chinese food is supposed to be right off the burner piping hot when it comes to the table - ready to serve - not a minute too soon or too many minutes after final prep in the kitchen).

The 'kiss of death' comment that scares every diner away from a dish: 'NOT FRESH!'.

This all sounds negative, as in why go out to eat if every meal is a re-enactment of the panel from Iron Chef? That's just the way it is, folks - part of the (family-style Chinese) dining experience.

But really, there is a deliciously delectable positive side to the 'food talk at the table'.
The meal is well-prepared and perfectly cooked. Arrives at the table at just the right temperature. When that happens, you don't really hear a thing.
Chinese diners typically don't mmmmmmmmm and ahhhhhhhhhhh over a perfect dish of food. They just eat it. In relative silence.
After a few bites, someone will say 'Pretty good'. 'Not bad'. 'Think I'll have some more'.

Now, that'sa good review!
吃有些

2007

Day late and a black-eyed pea short.
Or something like that.

I've got some black-eyed peas, smoked ham shanks, salt pork
and this recipe - which I intend to make with a few changes from the ingredients listed.
About 20 years ago, I was introduced to the eating of black-eyed peas to begin the new year as a Southern new year food tradition. South as in Southern USA. Exercising artistic license, and as my ancestry is southern (Southern China, but what the hey) I'm adopting and adapting the tradition - and the recipe.

My plan is to vary from the norm with the prep of this dish (which is usually served pretty plain). Perhaps my variation will have something of an Asian Twist (not the Pony, but the Twist) (OMG, how I LUV to do The Twist!)(and can do a pretty mean Asian Twist)(Whooooa, did I get distracted there. The Twist song can do that to a person...).

Anyways.
I can use Chinese sausage (good ol' lop cheoung) in my black-eyed peas dish instead of the aforementioned salted pork meats!
Or both?
Decisions decisions.
Hmmmmmmmm and Yummmmmmm.

I was gone all day today to romp and play and eat tasty Happy New Year foods with friends and fam in The City, so I won't be cooking up a proper black eyed pea dish to eat until tomorrow.

But I'm right here right now on this first day of 2007 to wish you this: have yourself some very fine 'first days of the New Year'! Be kind to someone. Give some lovin'. Get some lovin'.
Today was full of kindness and lovin' all the way round.
We're going to have our good days and our bad days, but I do hope you experience a string of good days to start the year.

Eat black-eyed peas.
They're considered a Lucky Food.
And by all means - do The Twist (Asian or otherwise).
Before, during or after ...